Changing Places by Nannette Croce

Final semester of my daughter’s senior year at college. We’re visiting for the Easter weekend. Driving, I think of the first year, before she had her own car, picking her up that first Thanksgiving, Christmas, visiting at Easter, the first she would spend away from home. Stressing every traffic delay, anxious not to keep her waiting.

That first year we often received a call in the car. Are you almost here? How long until you arrive? Do you have to stop at the hotel first? Why not come right here? Then hugs and squeezes and a torrent of conversation. The annoying things her roommate did or said, the guy she liked who didn’t like her, the guy who liked her who she didn’t like.

This year we leave the house at a leisurely hour. Our daughter has volunteered to help out with a seminar and won’t be free until late afternoon. Around 5:00 the call comes. She’s exhausted, has a birthday party to attend that night, hasn’t bought the gift yet. Do we mind? My husband shoots me a look of relief when he hears my response.

“Actually, Dad and I are tired from the ride. We’ll pick up a salad at the supermarket and watch the news.”

We make plans for the next day. She’ll do the driving. She knows the town. She’ll pick us up for lunch. I’m already wondering at the protocol. Who sits in front Dad or me?

We’ll shop for a formal together, probably for the last time. We’ll pay for that and the gas she puts in the car. A last vestige of our roles as Mom and Dad.

We are already beginning to exchange places. Oddly, I don’t mind. This is how life works. This is how it should be.

The Gift of Learning by Nannette Croce

As college tuition rises so that few can shoulder the entire expense for their children, I realize how lucky I was to receive the gift of education from my parents, and for their forethought in starting us on the way to giving that same gift to our daughter. I still believe the best education is a broad one, not a narrowly-focused career path. That thinking has long gone out of fashion as risk-averse employers require ever more specific degrees, and graduates, saddled with debt, require well-paying jobs. My parents allowed me the luxury of a Liberal Arts education that many see as preparing for nothing, but, which, in fact, prepared me for everything by instilling a love of knowledge and life-long learning.

As my daughter approaches graduation with a degree in Art History, stressing over a career path, I’m confident she’ll cobble something together until she finds her path, probably attending grad school, maybe in her field, more likely in something different and more practical, like I did. Whatever she does she will apply the creativity and broad-mindedness her liberal education instilled in her. She takes it for granted now, as I did at her age. Today I realize what a rare and powerful gift my parents gave me and how fortunate I was to receive it.