Fall time with a high school senior in the house means one thing: College road trips. Exciting and daunting at the same time. Your child looks to you for advice because they don’t want to make a “wrong” decision. Or, in reality, what they are looking for is to be told what to do. It’s hard, but now is the time for the parent to transition to the role of a spectator. You have to hope that the foundation that you as parents have laid down is a good one, and allows your child to make a wise and mature decision.

My son Andrew and I set off Columbus Day weekend, leaving early enough to avoid the holiday traffic. Attempts were made at small talk, but the headphones quickly went on and episodes of Family Guy occupied his time. It became apparent that the lack of conversation was not due to rudeness, but to nervousness. He was entering into the unknown, being pushed into the adult world. At the same, time Mom and Dad were being pushed into letting go and hoping for good decisions

Time ticked away and miles turned on the odometer; after a few episodes of Family Guy (well not a few, more like eight), some questions started to come from the passenger seat. (Yes, I was driving, since this was the son who trashed the brand new family car a few weeks ago.)

“What is tomorrow going to be like? What are we going to do?”

I had to answer truthfully: “I don’t know. We have to show up and see.”

Things are much different than I remember when I looked at schools. To be honest, I didn’t actually look at schools. I applied to a few, was accepted at fewer, and when I made my decision I was denied by the parental units. Why, I asked. “Because too many of your friends are there.” That day I learned an important lesson. Pocketbook trumps independence every time. But turns out they were right, and it was a wise move to go where I went.

Walking into the student center was an eye-opening experience. This school wanted to give an experience that you would not forget. The campus was polished; the students attentive to all questions. This was an engineering school, and when I walked into the labs, my jaw dropped. Being a CEREC dentist, I love tech stuff, and the tech stuff they had was tech stuff on steroids.

Indy cars, off-road vehicles, electric cars, radio-controlled drones, robots, concrete canoes and metal bridges – all projects for collegiate completion. Where can I sign up? This isn’t what I remember about college, but then again I studied biology, not engineering. Then to top it off, this school has a ski team and was interested in Andrew’s skiing credentials.

My son was happy, and on the afternoon drive home, there was less Family Guy and more conversation. He asked if I liked the school and I told him, “It doesn’t matter what I think, what did you think? How did walking around the campus feel?” I knew he was excited, but I could also see he was very tired; he didn’t sleep much the night before since he was so wound-up over this.

On the beautiful drive home, we saw points of interest that I remember passing during a summer 30 years ago. It made me think about the passage of time. I have to have faith in Andrew; he was asking the right questions; he is focused on what he wants to study.

Another morning and another open house and Andrew started to take the lead with questions. I started to get the feeling he was ready to start picking his path and determine his future.