By Marion Franck and Beth Lew

Marion Franck, 55, and Beth Lew, 20, a mother and daughter pair of writers from Davis, respond to questions about the freshman “good-bye.” They wrote independently of each other.

What did you fear most?

Mom: Loneliness. During high school, my daughter tumbled home every day, plopped down on the couch and waited for me to run my fingers through her long brown hair. We talked. I was afraid of missing her day and night, but especially at 3:45.

Beth: I feared being alone. When I went to college, I left behind all the people who loved me. At home, I knew everyone took pride in my strengths and forgave my weaknesses. At college, I knew no one. I had to make a quick good impression on people so that I wouldn’t be eating alone.

What was the most memorable moment from the move?

The university offered a panel presentation for parents on “Letting Go.” I walked into the room feeling as vulnerable as a patient before surgery. The panelists were four juniors and seniors who acted out freshman phone calls with their parents at home. One burly, spike-haired Asian guy from Los Angeles, introduced as a stellar athlete and scholar, picked up the phone, paused for a long moment and started sobbing. “I don’t want to stay here, Mommy. Please let me come home.” I held my composure by reminding myself “he’s acting,” until the moderator told us that each student had recreated a real moment from his or her own freshman year. Then I broke down and wept.

I spent part of my last week before college at UC Berkeley saying good-bye to my boyfriend. Mom picked me up on a warm Thursday morning. She handed me a box of tissues as we wound our way through the Berkeley hills, up and out of the city. I had said my first major good-bye; soon I would say good-bye to my brother, my dad and finally my Mom. Damn, I thought to myself, this is really happening.

What took more time than expected?

Money stuff: deciding how much money to give her, how often to give it and where to put it (checking account? credit card?). Our first plan was too complicated, our second too inflexible, our third required a lot of record keeping. Fortunately, she was willing.

Opening a checking account took a lot of time. With all the new students suddenly in town, the banks were swamped. Even after I waded through the lines and figured out my checking plan, it still took weeks until I received my checks and ATM card in the mail.

What was the most helpful dorm item?

Photos. I thought of them as keepsakes for my daughter and conversation-starters for her new friends.

Though I certainly appreciated my computer, I would have to say my hot pot was one of the most helpful items in my room. It is legal in the dorms. It allows you to boil water and make soup, tea, hot cereal and pasta without leaving your room. Great when you’re in a rush or just don’t want to face the dining hall. [At UC Davis, hot pots are not allowed in the rooms, but they are allowed in the communal kitchen.]

How did you surprise yourself?

Even though I feared the moment of separation, I had a lot of fun moving her in. The campus buzzed with anticipation. Shopping together with a genuine reason to spend money (toiletries, curtains, computer) was a pleasure, especially since we had allowed plenty of time. It was amazing how I could put the final good-bye out of my mind while I was reading road maps, finding parking spaces and choosing a printer.

The day after Mom left, I felt unequal to the task of building a new life in this strange place. My new computer didn’t work. My roommate was nowhere to be found. I called my boyfriend in California and cried. He soon discovered that I had not eaten all day. “Beth,” he told me, “I want you to do something for me. I want you to go to the dining hall, sit down with a random woman who looks friendly and pretend she’ll be your bridesmaid someday.” I dried my red and puffy eyes, mustered up my last bit of courage and made my way to the dining hall. I met a beautiful Greek woman. We stayed friends for all of freshman year.

What did you realize that your daughter (or mother) did not?

I noticed that her new circumstances would be much less comfortable than home. The gloomy green bathroom, for example, stood way down the hall and looked too small for a dozen students. Funny, though, she never mentioned that bathroom all year.

Moments before Mom and I were going to say our final good-bye, three drunk transfer students banged on my door wishing to introduce themselves. Mom made it clear that she was in the room, instantly scaring the guys away from the door. Full of worry, Mom ran through various safety measures—who would I call in an emergency, how to lock my door, how to stop guys like that from stepping inside my room. She did not realize, at that moment, that she raised me to be cautious and observant. I knew how to keep myself safe.

How did it feel, the actual moment of saying good-bye?

By that point, we were both exhausted. We embraced. I raced down the hall afterwards, sensing a hundred freshman eyes on my tear-stained face. Overwhelmed by my own loss, I still remember how soft she felt, how vulnerable, how potentially alone. It was a hard moment.

Painful.

What helped you cope?

Other parents. E-mail. Keeping busy. Other parents. My own happy memories of college. Writing. Other parents.

E-mail gave me an avenue through which to vent emotions, keep track of old friends and stay busy during the first few weeks. It has all the benefits of a diary with the added pleasure that someone is actually listening to you.

Which piece of advice did you receive that was all wrong?

Paperwork from my daughter’s university suggested that I stay in the background while moving her to school. Don’t hang around too much. Let her connect with new friends. But it turned out that saying good-bye was very important to her. She didn’t want me to get on with it and leave.

My dad told me to purchase a popcorn popper. It’s the quickest way to meet people, he told me. He was wrong. Not only is a popper illegal in the dorms [they are allowed in the communal kitchens at UC Davis], it’s completely out of date now thanks to microwave popcorn.

What advice would you impart to others?

Look around campus. It’s fun to picture your child in her new environment.

Keep the door of your dorm room open. Have a rug or a chair, somewhere for visitors to sit. I am by nature a shy and private person, but during those first weeks I needed friends more than I needed time to myself. People will stop by if you make them welcome. They are also searching for friends.

How does that time look two years later?

I expected to feel better when my daughter slid into friendships and was happy at school. But her first year was difficult, and I wondered if I’d get a tearful phone call asking if she could come home. But the young man on the “Letting Go” panel turned out to be right about everything. Although she adjusted more slowly than others, my daughter is happy now.

Same goes for me. I miss you, Beth, but I’m proud of you, and I’m doing fine.

That first move looks like a blur now, with so many other comings and goings since then. Leaving for college was difficult. I was ready to be at college—to have that independence and intellectual challenge—but that did not stop the pain of saying good-bye. The first move involved the most raw emotion; the following moves were like echoes of the first, fainter each time.

I’m getting ready to leave again. This time, I think I will do fine.