- Jan 16, 2025
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As I stood in Salem, Oregon, watching my firstborn embark on their college adventure, an overwhelming mix of pride and sorrow washed over me. This moment, so far removed from our home in Virginia, was a bittersweet rite of passage, one that every parent dreads yet anticipates.
Leaving your child at college is akin to stepping off a cliff. You’re buoyed by hope but tethered by fear. You strive to project confidence, hoping they won’t pick up on your anxieties. Yet, as we gathered in the auditorium, surrounded by families celebrating new beginnings, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending emptiness.
As we said our goodbyes, I watched my child walk away, no longer just my baby but a young adult stepping into a world filled with instant ramen and caffeine-fueled discoveries. The space they left behind felt vast and hollow, a reminder of the adventures they were about to undertake without us.
After the emotional farewell, my wife and I knew we needed a distraction. We hopped into a rental car, heading towards the airport, but not before making a spontaneous stop at a knife factory store. It seemed like the perfect way to shift focus from the bittersweet moment we had just experienced.
Years ago, I learned the hard way about the value of a good knife. My days spent in newspaper distribution taught me that cheap knives break under pressure, but a well-crafted one becomes a trusted companion. Standing in the factory store, I was reminded of my journey with blades:
As my wife and I browsed through the selection, we found ourselves asking questions that had more depth than any we posed during the college orientation. The knowledgeable staff engaged us, sharing insights into knife designs and functionalities. My wife's curiosity about jimping—a feature I had taken for granted—highlighted how much I had overlooked in my own understanding.
We left the knife shop without a purchase, but it wasn’t about the knives. It was about the realization that holding on to what we know is essential, but so is letting go. My trusty knife, which fits my hand perfectly and serves its purpose well, reminded me that sometimes, the best tools are the ones we already have.
As we drove to dinner in Portland, I wore a new sweatshirt with the knife company logo, a memento of our day. Perhaps it was a symbol of our evolving lives, where letting go is just as crucial as holding on.
Oregon has its charms, from stunning fishing spots to American-made craftsmanship. It serves as a reminder that while we navigate through the challenges of parenting, there are always new experiences waiting just around the corner. Our afternoon in Oregon was more than a simple detour; it was a necessary step in accepting the changes that come with letting go.
An accomplished journalist with over a decade of experience in investigative reporting. With a degree in Broadcast Journalism, Marcus began his career in local news in Washington, D.C. His tenacity and skill have led him to uncover significant stories related to social justice, political corruption, & community affairs. Marcus’s reporting has earned him multiple accolades. Known for his deep commitment to ethical journalism, he often speaks at universities & seminars about the integrity in media
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