Matthew Osborne
So the time finally came to say goodbye, and I could see he was upset. I knew our son was excited about starting college, but at that moment, the reality was setting in that we were leaving him.
“So hey,” I started, hoping to lighten the mood. “We’ll see you at 3:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving. I will honk not once, not twice, but thrice! So be ready to go.”
The joke just didn’t land, and the hug I offered as consolation was not boisterously returned.
Hunter’s mom was wearing sunglasses, so she was able to hide her burgeoning tears. And to be truthful, I needed mine, too.
As we turned to walk to our car, I asked “You good?” He said yes, but I was not convinced.
But by the time we got home after about two hours, he was talking to people and making friends. Prior to our departure, I felt like I already made more friends on campus than he did, but all he needed was a little space and opportunity to get going.
Rewind a week to Hunter going with me to the Raider scrimmage. Like I had so many times, I walked boldly into the stadium with my press pass, indicating that Hunter was either my spotter (I do have severe visual impairment) or my emotional support human.
Look, I understand emotional support dogs, that makes sense. But if people can have emotional support peacocks and lizards and stuff, I can have an emotional support human. He costs a lot more to feed than some lizard, so I feel my mental health needs should be respected, too.
But realistically, he was my spotter, and he was my emotional support human. Neither of those were a con or hustle. There were times where I just needed Hunter with me on those long Friday nights, especially since so few people get me and understand what makes me tick.
Everyone who has sent a child off to college, or the military or the workforce knows this same feeling, but it all comes at you like a quick download of a computer file. All the times we just chilled out and played video games, or the years of hockey games I coached him through, or the times where he needed me to be his emotional support human … they all flashed by.
He made me a father when I had no idea how to do that. We did our best to make him into the man he is today, and it is up to him to determine the path from here.
I made him hamburgers for his last meal at home before heading out on his own. It’s not like he’ll never be back, but I remembered my parents making a big deal out of me eating my “last meal at home” with my girlfriend and her family. I mean, my parents still had to drive me to Washington DC, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t be spending the next two days with them. And yet, they were upset.
All you can do throughout life is try to learn from your successes and failures and do better the next time around.
As for Hunter, he enjoyed his hamburgers, and he has seen a lot more successes than failures. Even if there are a few of the latter in the future, there is no greater teacher.
I sleep well at night knowing Hunter will do well in school, and he even texts every now and then.
You know, for emotional support.
Matthew Osborne is the editor of The Northeast Georgian. Reach him at editor@TheNortheastGeorgian.com or 706-778-4215.