Or maybe, I’ll just celebrate yesterday afternoon at about 1:45 when my daughter got a call from her top choice college, with an offer of admission. (She had been on the waiting list.) You know that expression, “A mother is only as happy as her least happy child?” Well, for the last month and a half, but especially the last ten days as the wait list began to move, my daughter has been on pins and needles. I am not completely sure she ever exhaled during that week and a half. She kept her chin up as friends and acquaintances got similar calls from their schools of choice. She tried not to lose hope. And she always assured me that she would be fine at the school she had chosen by the May first deadline. It’s a great school. Her older sister just finished an incredibly successful first year there. But I knew she wanted her own place, specifically this place. And yesterday she got that wish. She called me as soon as she hung up with the admissions officer, her voice trembling with all kinds of emotions from joy to gratitude to relief. The giggles and shrieks in the background made it hard for me to hear her, and I didn’t want to keep her long, because I knew she had other calls to make.
The sun finally came out for Claire yesterday afternoon after a long, challenging senior year that included an injury that sidelined her during her final season on the varsity tennis team, and an invasive surgery that left her with an impressive scar across her neck, and enough smaller hurdles in between to try even the most resilient child’s resolve. On her very last day of classes, during the very last hour, she got a call that made it all seem better.
I’m celebrating my happy child and her incredible opportunity to study at a top university. She worked hard for this. My heart is full, and I am so proud.