Today’s post has no particular value. It’s more of a mother’s stream of consciousness. For some reason W made me think of a t-shirt I saw in Logan Airport recently. Printed on the front of the shirt was “Wicked Smaht”...as in Casey Affleck’s line from the incredible film, Good Will Hunting…’My boy’s wicked smaht”.
I love a thick Boston accent. If you crave a dose, I highly recommend an episode or ten of Ray Donovan. Followed by a whiskey.
Once you’ve heard a great Boston accent, it’s impossible to read the words ‘Wicked Smaht’ and not smile a little. If you haven’t seen Good Will Hunting with Matt Damon and the Affleck brothers, I urge you to watch it. Superb flick.
Anyway...13 months ago, I took at trip to the east coast with my daughter Greta. This kid who’d always dreamed of attending college in NYC had exercised her womanly prerogative and changed her mind.
After completing an internship in the Big Apple, she realized that NYC wasn’t her place.
As a high school senior, it was crunch time.
Greta needed new options.
Our 'east coast college tour' began in Boston. The first night of this adventure that was stretching us both well beyond our comfort zone, I introduced her to the above mentioned classic. Good Will Hunting. As we snuggled up on the sofa at our Airbnb and watched this powerful story unfold, I had a sense that Boston would soon become her home.
Fast forward to now. Greta lives in Beantown.
She lights up when she talks about her new city. And though homesickness sometimes makes her heart hurt, she’s happy and she’s where she belongs.
I have two teenage sons at home. One sixteen and one fourteen.
Next year I’ll have a high school senior again.
There will be college tours and decisions.
Peter will pick his town.
There will be stretching and homesickness.
And then there will be one.
We’ll do it all over again.
We’ll know the drill,
but there will still be stretching and homesickness.
I’d love to think it will get easier each time one of my kids leaves home. But the tears streaming down my cheeks as I type this tell me otherwise.
Motherhood is not for sissies.
Greta chose the land of Wicked Smaht.
Right now, I’m not sure where my boys will end up...but I’m sure we’ll find a film that highlights their new place. And I’ll learn the lingo and practice the accent until it makes me smile.
Here’s to stretching and growing and manageable bouts of homesickness.
Okay, mamas...where are you in the process?
What tips can you offer to help us all be Wicked Smaht when it comes to letting our kids go?
Thanks for being here. More tomorrow...
Hello, I'm Kristen.
As a personal stylist,