So Dumb.

We loaded the car with all his worldly belongings. Two bags of clothes and then everything else was guitars and pedals and amps. Packed to the brim.

He hugged his Dad for a really long time. Andy and I haven’t been able to make eye contact for days knowing this moment was coming. I wanted to throw up.

It was my then my task to drive him 21 hours and deliver him to the Colorado mountains. There he will begin his full-time job at the Guest Ranch on Monday.

I’ve done similar trips to college campuses three times before…you just drive them there. And then you leave them.

It’s pure insanity. Look. I know we are not supposed to find our purpose or our identity in this 24-7 job we’ve had for the last 18 years.

We are supposed to be chill about knowing the sound of their footsteps on the stairs, the brand of yogurt they prefer, what the subtle lift of their brow means, their allergies, their fears, their dreams and their scars.

We study for this every single day. We show up every single day.

Not a single dollar is put into a 401K for the labor.

Not a single skill can be listed on a resume in the future.

But it requires every single part of you.

And it is also not about you. Take care of yourself, they say. Make sure you are nurturing yourself. Take time to develop your own interests.

And also.

Keep them alive. Advocate. Mama Bear. But don’t helicopter.

Over and over, you are asked: Whats his birthdate? His height? Weight? Doctor? Dentist? Pharmacy? Shoe size? Pant size? Surgical history? GPA? Schoolology login? Routing number? Vehicle identification number?

And then.

Stop talking. Why are you talking?? Does she have permission to talk for him?

Be a safety net, but also let them fall. Let them make their own mistakes. But also you will go to jail if they fail a class, or break a law, or lose their social security card.

Be available. Present. But also let them figure it out.

This will take all of you. But also this is not about you.

Do all the things. And then stop.

And don’t let them see you be sad.

Because again. This will take all of you.

But this is not about you.

And I would like to say: What a gift. What a privilege. What an honor. I am more grateful for it than there are words adequate.

And also. As I prepare to drive this car back home without him in it.

This whole thing. This whole thing is incredibly dumb.