Christine McCarriston
When my oldest daughter moved out three years ago, I of course called my mom. I was thrilled for Shanna — proud that my husband and I raised her to go out and stand on her own — but I was also a mom missing her daughter. It didn’t matter that she moved close to us; it was a different way of living than we had known for 27 years.
What did my mom remember about me moving out when I got married? What triggered her emotions most?
“I remember when you took your shoes — that’s when I knew you were truly leaving this house,” she recalled, as if it were yesterday. So I started thinking about what would bring my tears when Shanna left the home she had lived in since she was 3 years old.
It came to me quickly: Mini Cheez-It and Waffle on my kitchen window shelf. That’s what did it for me. Shanna loves mini things and collected many. Years ago, I bought her a mini food set that included a Cheez-It and a waffle. Somehow, they ended up on my kitchen window shelf alongside some of my favorite pictures. Her goddaughter Zoey loved to play with them when she visited, and I saw them many times a day because of where they were located. When I thought about what would make me realize Shanna had truly moved out, it was easy — those mini toys that had entertained Zoey and made me smile.
When I helped Shanna move in, I placed those adorable minis with their happy faces in her kitchen. They loved living there. And yes, that got me as emotional as I imagine my mother was when she saw me carrying out my shoes. I’ll admit I bought myself replacements soon after. They live on that same shelf and still make me smile.
My youngest just started her California adventure, moving 3,400 miles away with a high school friend to start anew. She’s one of many who definitely doesn’t like the darkness that comes at 4 p.m. in the fall and winter. We took many vacations to California, always having a wonderful time. After earning her master’s degree, she spent five weeks with her cousin just outside Los Angeles and came back refreshed and wanting more. When her friend suggested moving west, Jenna was all in.
Last week, she left the only home she’s ever known for Arroyo Grande, a place known for its historic village and diverse landscapes between the coast and the countryside — and yes, sunlight at 4 p.m.
This was much harder for me than Shanna’s move 10 minutes away. Jenna’s friend Maddie arrived at their rental house a few days early and sent her a video walk-through. Of course, they had seen pictures online, but it became much more real when Maddie narrated each room and hallway. Jenna was so excited watching the video that she bounced down the stairs to show me. The joy she expressed helped me get through the move. That memory will stay with me as one of the best — a reminder of why she left and how happy she was.
Days before she left, I started thinking about what my “shoes” or “mini food” moment would be with Jenna. I thought of the elephant blanket my friend gave her, which she loved so much. She used it constantly while watching TV and even fought over it with a close friend who lived with us for a while. But by the time I thought of it, the blanket was already packed in the U-Haul.
It wasn’t hard to think of another: her karaoke microphone. One of my favorite memories is coming home to find Jenna sitting on the kitchen counter with that microphone, a glass of Prosecco nearby and music playing. She had set a microphone and a glass of Prosecco in my favorite glass on the counter near the door for me. I immediately picked up the mic and joined her. Shanna came in soon after and joined us — sans microphone, since we only had two. Her fiancé stood back in the hall, a little unsure. “Shanna said you guys did this often, but I’ve never seen it.” Welcome to the family, Mikey.
At Jenna’s California Farewell party, she and her cousins passed around the microphone for the last two hours, singing and dancing to their favorite music. Watching them, as I had so many times before, brought a smile to my face.
The next day, I saw the microphone in the kitchen, and that was it. That was my “shoes” and “mini food” for my Jenna Lynne. I am thrilled for her and can’t wait to see what this new life brings. And I know she’ll always keep us in her heart — and a microphone in her hand.
Christine McCarriston is a Lynn resident.
