“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
The peculiar thing about being a financial advisor is that most people think it’s about money and math, when in fact it’s mostly about life and love. That might sound odd, but the reason any of us care about money is so that we can have the life we want, which commonly involves the people we love. Over my career, my clients have invited me into their lives to share deeply emotional journeys - births and deaths, marriage and divorce, good health and unwanted diagnoses, funding a child’s school expenses and using that money to actually send them to college. Now it’s my turn. And I’m not totally sure I like it.
It’s been 18+ years since my daughter was born, since I fumbled around motherhood like a baby giraffe unable to get my legs underneath me. Then I hit a stride, and I felt at ease with being a mom and being 100% responsible for raising this small person and her brother to grow up to be good adults in the world. I have since been humbled by the key element of parenting - right when you think to yourself, “I got this,” something new teaches you that you really probably don’t.
I remember some things clearly as “points in time” - when the playroom with toys and books became the gameroom with screens and room for friends, when ballet slippers were turned in for soccer cleats, which were later turned in for volleyball shoes. I also don’t remember the last time some things happened. I don’t remember the last time I held either one of my kid’s hands. I don’t remember the last time I hoisted them on my hip and carried them. I don’t remember the last time that my son giggled like crazy at me making a funny face. I don’t remember the last time that my daughter fell asleep on my shoulder.
I just remember, with acute fondness, the deeply human appreciation that they happened so many times.
In very short order, we encourage small children to take reasonable risks. If we do our job really well – I mean, really well – we eventually put ourselves out of business. We make ourselves nearly useless over the years as they learn to do things for themselves – from making their own meals to driving themselves places and resolving school issues or a new living situation on their own. And as they evolve, we force ourselves to set aside the anticipation of those little feet coming down the stairs any minute for the gratitude that they know how to change a tire and have a plan for their lives. Eventually we all realize the same truth - that it is heartbreaking but necessary for children to leave home.
As I think about my daughter going to college, I can’t help but to start with what it will mean at home. I wonder what will replace the sound of her in the house – the jangling charm bracelet, the blaring music, the laughter – so much laughter. I wonder who will approve my outfits. I wonder what it will be like to have all of my shoes in my closet, right where I left them.
And then I wonder some more.
I wonder if the strangers-turned-dormmates will know how lucky they are to live with her. I wonder if they know that when she borrows their accessories and doesn’t return them that it is a compliment to their fashion sense. I wonder how long it will take them to learn that it really is just better to let her play DJ because she always nails the mood (except on some early morning drives).
And then I wonder – how do parents endure all of this?
I’m used to writing about other people’s college planning, with observations keenly focused on the money element, such as the extreme rate of inflation vs. most incomes, and the extraordinary price range in a 4-year degree. Admittedly, financial preparation and emotional preparation for college are wildly different, and they present both challenges and hopes for a certain type of future. As parents are launching their children into adulthood, even carefully planned financial decisions loom larger as we all hope we are preparing our children for future success.
We know that every financial decision is a life decision. For 25 years I have counseled families to prepare for and walk through this moment. But it’s different to walk through it myself. To my client families, thank you for teaching me so much about parenting – through your life example, through the goals you set for your families (not the financial ones, but rather the ones that centered on the relationships you wanted to have with your family through multiple generations), through sharing with me the joy and sorrow of your own personal journeys with your families. I know from you that I have many exciting and fulfilling phases yet to go through with my children, and that this grief - the grief of having a child leave the home - is good grief in the evolution of a family.
To all of my friend families, colleague families, and client families that are sending a child to college for the first time this year… I feel you. And my answer to how parents can endure the letting go process is that we know that it is what our children are built for. I look forward to hearing about the journeys that you and your kids go on over the coming years.