The college student and her proud-but-weepy Dad share a nice moment together.
She’s not here.
I’m going through the cabinet in our office where we keep things such as computer paper, packs of loose-leaf paper, partially filled notebooks, previously used 3-ring binders, the box of birthday cards and a separate box for thank you notecards, and other stationery. I’m focusing on the notebooks, seeing which ones Allie, my younger daughter, can use for her upcoming sophomore year in high school.
I’m finding some notebooks as well as a few folders that are in good condition. There are a few 3-ring binders among the collection that have seen better days, so I decide to dispose of them. It’s a tedious exercise, I know. But it’s helping.
Because she’s not here.
You don’t know exactly how you’re going to react when you send your first-born child to college. I had been bracing for that fateful day from the very moment I rode with Katie on the school bus for her first day of kindergarten. I remember vividly talking with my wife that day about how everything is suddenly changing – namely, the countdown to our Katie going off to college just started today.
“Honey,” my wife Kim said to me calmly but with a look that indicated I was extremely overreacting. “It’s her first day of school.”
“I know,” I responded, “but there’s going to be a time when she’s not going to be with us.”
And now, she’s not here.
I’m going through this closet exercise to keep my mind distracted from the reality that Katie is at college, hopefully making new friends, learning the layout of her new home for the next four years, and adapting as well as she possibly could to her new normal.
As for me, I’m an emotional wreck. In the months, weeks, and days leading up to the day we would drop Katie off at school, I found myself crying openly at the very thought of that day. I couldn’t quite imagine exactly what they day would look like; I could never get there in my mind because I couldn’t get past the feeling of what that day would feel like without bursting into tears.
I found solace in distraction. I’m a strong believer in and advocate for positive mental health, and I’ve learned that it’s healthy to lean into negative emotions or experiences. If I were younger, I’d have happily laced up my running shoes and sprinted in the other direction. But throughout Katie’s senior year, I made sure to remain present to enjoy every moment I had with her and her sister, whose close bond grew incredibly stronger during the pandemic. When I was sad, I let it out; just ask my girls and their “Dad’s about to cry again” eye roll. But I also knew I couldn’t wallow too long in sadness, so I needed positive distractions.
Organizing was my distraction. I’ve always been a neat freak – my girls have referred to me as Danny Turner, the cleanliness-obsessed Dad on Full House, on many occasions. But I became even more diligent in seeking out organizing or decluttering projects around the house. One day, for example, I went through the kitchen cabinets, first to weed out the expired spices and then to whittle down the number of travel mugs we had so we could free up cabinet space.
It’s amazing how determined you are when you’re looking for something to occupy your time. I found distraction in the most menial of tasks, whether it was testing all the pens in the house to get rid of the ones that didn’t work – this, I believe, is the very definition of menial tasks – or heading to the basement to see how we could utilize our empty plastic totes, both large and small, around the house. I also freed up some totes after going through my personal memorabilia, which included items dating back to when I was in grade school. (Here’s a quick and helpful organizing tip: Take pictures of things that you want to remember having and then properly get rid of them. Things collect dust; the memories that those things recalled never do.)
As our time with Katie at home drew closer to its end, I made sure I wasn’t spending too much time organizing things and not enough time just being with her. Katie and I have a similar sense of humor, so re-watching early Bo Burnham specials became one of our things, as did listening to songs by Phoebe Bridgers repeatedly. Binging shows like Stranger Things, Parks & Recreation or New Girl – a show she introduced me to and one I highly recommend (Schmidt happens!) – also became a family staple.
When the day came to say goodbye, it was as emotional as you would expect. Kim, Allie, and I cried with every last hug we could give her, followed by more tears as we saw her walk toward her dorm while we headed to the car for some more group therapy. The worst for me, though, came later when we got home. I had just brought inside the suitcases and some other things we used to carry her stuff to college, and I went downstairs to the basement to put them away. On my way back into the kitchen, I saw Katie’s water cup from breakfast, sitting by her usual spot at the kitchen table since the day we moved into our home when she was 5. I lost it, and that’s when it really hit me hard:
She’s not here.
I knew that we had raised Katie the best we possibly could have. We worked hard to encourage her through our words and actions to be strong, confident, and independent. When you’re a parent, you instill in your kids your best traits and qualities. You want the best for them and for them to be better than you are. You want them to have the courage to set off on their own path, even though that path means the life you had with them – from the time you brought them home as babies until the day they move away from home – has been changed forever.
The tears, as expected, don’t come nearly as much as they first did when we said goodbye to her (though writing this blog has cost me a handful of tissues). Time is the great healer, but so is the ability to distract oneself to move forward and not focus on the sadness. The positives for me in using organizing as a healthy distraction is that my house has less clutter, the daily chores are actually done daily, and I have more time to enjoy with Kim and Allie.
As for the day we take Allie to college … that’s another countdown I’m doing my best not to think about.
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Tom Harper is owner of Tom’s Organizing Made Simple LLC, a Bethlehem-based company dedicated to helping people declutter and organize their space, stuff, time, and/or tasks. Follow TOM’S on Facebook or Instagram.