It’s like déjà vu all over again, as Yogi famously said. Or is it?
Daughter number two, now 17 years old and a junior in high school, is starting her college search, so we toddled around the East Coast for her spring vacation last week, just as I shuttled her sister about three years ago. I’m surprised by how many of the schools, the charming New England towns, the highways and scenic lesser roads, feel familiar but, at the same time, this trip is completely different than the last one. Amazingly, it seems that on a daily basis I forget my daughters are completely different people.
I remember, quite fondly, the college tours I took with my older girl. In the midst of junior year stress we made a series of pilgrimages to bastions of higher education. The trips provided a welcome break to the daily grind of rules and curfews, tense discussions about school and summer plans. Together in hotel rooms and at meals, we spoke much about the places we saw. We shared a purpose and I had insights and observations to offer that she valued.
Much is the same with my younger child. There is plenty of dinner conversation, digesting the campus of the day, comparing the towns, and reviewing the sights. I am constantly struck by her unique perspective during the daily analysis, the things about a school she responds to, the interests and ambitions that are hers alone. Although I look at her everyday, it occurs to me that I don’t always really see her.
How rare is it to spend five days with your kid? We weren’t always alone, seeing cousins and grandparents for brief stops along the way, but we were together all the time.
We picked a book to listen to while driving, negotiated restaurants and hotels, she helped navigate and did a little of the driving including her first stretch of highway at the wheel. There are many moments that stand out — spring days in Pennsylvania followed by a snow storm in Vermont, ice cream in every town, watching cheesy movies — but it is simply the time together that was precious.
I find it too easy to compare my girls, and often I’m really comparing my younger daughter to her older sister. I like to think I see her for herself, but she is often part of a package, having spent her whole life with a sibling.
Seeing her eyeing potential schools, though, helped me understand both how she sees herself and the person she wants to become — even a hint of the life she envisions. Comparing colleges gave me a rare glimpse into her dreams and aspirations. Through the process of pondering her future, she opened a window I could look through and appreciate who she is, for herself.
Together on the road, it was special to get to know my kid in new ways before she takes off on this next phase of her life.
