Editorial
Front Page - Friday, August 27, 2010
Are we there yet?
Moving on
Jay Edwards
(My daughter graduated from the University of Arkansas in May. I wrote this four years ago after taking her up there and thought some of you freshman parents might relate.)
Driving along I-40 last Thursday afternoon I wonder how many times I have made the trip. This time the reason is to help my daughter Alexis as she moves into her dorm at the University of Arkansas, where she will be a freshman.
Alexis spent the better part of the night gathering and packing her car and mine with all those things a young lady needs as she goes out on her own for the first time in her life.
In my back seat are a stereo, a lamp, some clothes and a box that I don’t know the contents of. Next to me in the front are her small TV and a DVD player.
We pull into Feltner’s parking lot in Russellville a few minutes after 11:00 and I see the lunch crowd has already arrived. Inside we meet the back of the line, which is already near the door. But the proficiency that has served millions for so long is still going strong, and it isn’t long before we are enjoying one of the South’s best burgers.
While in line the man standing in front of me asks if my daughter is a freshman. I tell him she is and he says the same about his son. Then I realize that the famous restaurant is full of parents like me, parents who probably feel that it wasn’t that long ago that we were the excited teenagers jumping from the nest.
We arrive in Fayetteville and the dorm parking lot. Students guide us to the unloading area, and my back is grateful as young men – boys really, begin taking Alexis’ worldly possessions from our cars into her dorm room. In no time both cars are empty and I have barely broken a sweat. Alexis goes around to the other side of the dorm to check in and I am told to move my car into the gravel parking lot across the street. I get lucky and find a spot and walk back to see my daughter’s new home.
Through the hot swirling dust of the parking lot I spy a mom going in the same direction. My eyes are dry and the dust from the gravel bothers them. I quicken my step to catch up with the mom. Just behind her I ask, “What’s your major?” She mercifully laughs and I find out she is from Mountain Home and that this is her second move of the week. Two days before she moved her daughter’s twin, a boy, to UCA in Conway. ‘He’ll be the linebacker,” she confidently told me.
I also learned from her that the UCA move, although farther, had been a much easier one. “I can’t imagine it being much easier than this,” I replied. The problem for her I find out was not so much the move but the difficulty with the new roommate and new roommate’s mom. Something about who got the loft (translation - top bunk) I began to sense her growing anger and moved quietly back into the safety of the dust cloud.
I find Alexis in her room and see she is worried that some of her stuff isn’t there. I tell her that I heard some of the student movers say they were taking her stuff to room 13. “Great Dad, I’m in room 15.” We go down to 13 and I see the linebacker’s mom with her arms crossed and staring at a bunk bed (translation – loft).
“Maybe this isn’t a good time Alexis,” I say. She looks at me like I have a manatee sitting on my head and charges ahead. I lag behind, waiting for the fur to fly. Soon however there is laughter from inside, and Alexis walks out with some clothes and a couple of posters. I look at her with respect and tell her she should major in International Relations.
We get back to her room and her phone rings. It is her roommate Kelly, who is from Fayetteville, calling from the parking lot. The girls have known each other since the second grade, and have remained best friends for more than a decade. Now comes the true test.
Kelly is upset because one of her boxes broke open. Just then one of the student movers arrives with Kelly’s microwave, followed by someone else carrying her toaster oven. I ask Alexis if Kelly is a home-ec major. She gives me that manatee look again.
I take that as my cue to move along. The girls have much to do and I know they will take good care of each other. I give my daughter a hug, a little longer than normal, and tell her I am proud of her and that I love her.
Outside, the dust from the hot gravel parking lot doesn’t bother my eyes as much.
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