Sending Our Oldest Off to College: A Journey Through His Milestones
How do you hold 18 years in your hands? It feels like I just blinked—and suddenly, I’m standing in a dorm room doorway, watching him unpack boxes and posters, in the same hands that once clutched LEGO towers and crayon-scribbled walls. The spunky little boy in a superhero cape, flying through our living room, has grown into a young man with dreams bigger than ever.
As we send him off to college, I find myself looking back—not just on the big moments, but also on all the beautiful in-betweens that, in addition, made this journey so meaningful. Sending a child to college is bittersweet, and this milestone reminds me how every step of his journey prepared us for this moment.
Beginnings and Wonder
I remember his favorite book at the time was Brown Bear, Brown Bear. On one unforgettable trip to Convict Lake, he spotted a real black bear outside our cabin. He was just over a year old, and in his little voice he said, “Brown bear, brown bear!” His Papa John was with us on that trip—one of the rare moments they shared fishing and hiking together. Looking back, I think Papa John knew that memory would become one of our treasures.
He came into the world curious, bright-eyed, and full of spark. From his earliest days, it was clear: he was made for movement and mischief. Running barefoot through the backyard, collecting sticks and bugs, always wondering how things worked. And always in costume—especially his Superman cape, flying out of the treehouse that he and Papa John built. That joy, that confidence—it was pure magic.
The Places That Shaped Him
Living in San Diego, we had our rotation of memory-making spots: the Zoo, Safari Park, SeaWorld, and Legoland. He especially loved the tigers and elephants at the Safari Park, eyes wide with wonder, questions tumbling out faster than I could answer.
He thrived in nature. We explored Yellowstone, Bryce Canyon, Zion, Denali. On our Alaska trip for Granny Franny’s 60th, he wore his Junior Ranger badge with pride, binoculars swinging, CamelBak strapped tight. He wasn’t just a little boy anymore—he was an explorer.
Summers at Mission Beach were sacred. Sand between our toes, volleyball games in the sun, body surfing with cousins, joy written all over his face as he dove into the waves. He’s always been drawn to water—like it’s part of his soul.
The Game That Became a Calling
He started soccer at four, jersey two sizes too big, cleats clumsy on tiny feet. Those YMCA games were the beginning of something we couldn’t yet see. From there came rec soccer, to his local soccer club, and a lifetime of weekends on fields across the country.
I remember the nerves and determination when he was first moved up to a more competitive team. And how he didn’t let setbacks define him—how he fought his way back, eventually earning a place on the U.S. Development Academy team. Grit, not luck, got him there.
Two coaches shaped him deeply. Coach Lopez, who saw potential from the beginning, and Coach Quinn, who challenged him into leadership. When he became captain, it wasn’t about talent alone—it was about character.
The road trips are etched in my heart: Phoenix showcases under desert sun, ECNL Nationals in St. Louis, league games in Las Vegas. Long drives with music blaring, late-night team dinners, birthdays celebrated in unexpected places (like Gordon Ramsay’s Hell’s Kitchen). Those trips were about more than soccer—they were about connection.
Lessons in Grit and Grace
Every athlete faces setbacks, and he met his with quiet strength. In our garage gym, sweat dripping, weights clanking, determination burning in his eyes, he built himself back up. Sometimes at 24 Hour Fitness, sometimes on backfields alone, sometimes in street soccer games with friends. He never stopped working.
One of my secret joys was the driving—before he had his license, I was his chauffeur. Practices, games, dinners. In those car rides, I got to listen to his laughter with friends in the backseat, conversations about nothing and everything. Those everyday drives became the soundtrack of our life.
High school soccer gave him another arena to shine. Starting varsity as a freshman, earning First Team All-League as a junior. Always humble. Never boasting. He played for love of the game, for his teammates, for the challenge. That humility—that grounded confidence—is one of my favorite parts of who he is.
And it wasn’t just soccer. He pushed himself in the classroom, taking AP courses, grinding through the same way he did on the field. The grit carried over.
Our Family on the Sidelines
Through every goal, every road trip, every setback, our family cheered. Rain or shine, bleachers or folding chairs, weekends on fields became a tradition. I even loved being team manager—staying connected to his world, even if he rolled his eyes at me sometimes.
We built a second family in the soccer community. Those friendships, those bonds, are part of his story as much as the trophies and medals.
The College Send-Off
And now—here we are. College. The room packed with boxes, the goodbye lingering in the air. I still see his little feet racing down the hallway, his hand reaching for mine. But this time, I let go.
We marked the moment the way we always have—with tradition. A last family dinner, laughter around the table, dessert he loves. I slipped a note into his things, something he’ll find when he needs a reminder of home.
As he steps into this next chapter, I know he’s ready. Strong. Kind. Capable. Prepared. Not just because of the trophies, AP classes, or leadership roles—but because of who he is.
A Letter for the Road Ahead
Dear Son,
College is the next adventure. I want you to know how proud I am—not just of what you’ve accomplished, but of who you are. You’ve led with humility, handled pressure with grace, brought joy wherever you’ve gone.
There will be hard days. There will be setbacks. But you know how to push through—on garage floors, gym benches, fields when no one was watching. That strength is yours forever.
You are deeply loved. You are prepared. And your story is just getting started. The world is wide, but you have everything you need—courage, compassion, resilience, and a family cheering you on, always.
Go chase your dreams. Take the leap. Trust your heart. And when you need to, come home. We’ll always be here.
With all my ❤︎,
Mom
