When my daughter, Sophie, was admitted to a college we were very happy, but a little worried about becoming empty nesters. I knew I had to do something to help myself adapt, starting with the summer before she left. Sophie had a pack of colorful T-shirts. I knew she wouldn't wear them any more, so I decided to make a quilt out of them for her bed at college. It focused my energy, and also let me relive some memories. I tried to work on the quilt when Sophie wasn't at home----which turned out to be often. She was very busy with her friends. Even when she was around, her door was shut more than usual. I felt a bit hurt. After all, we didn't have much time together before she went to college, I was already missing her, and she hadn't ever left yet. When we arrived at the college, a wave of emotion flooded me. I tried to hold it back, but Sophie saw it in my face. She took a big red book from her bag. "I made this for you, Mom," she said. Then I knew why she had been staying behind a closed door that summer. It was an album of photographs documenting the life of our family over the last 17 years. I broke into tears. Some of it was sadness at having to let her go, but some of it was joy. I knew that our connection was more powerful than ever, and that we'd always be connected by the strongest of threads, the love that went into every stitch of her quilt and every photo of my album. In Sophie's dormitory I unfolded the quilt on her bed. For a moment she was speechless. Then she threw her arms around me. "Mom, I love you," she said. One of her new friends was calling her outside. Sophie turned, and I let her go. Why did the author finally let her daughter go?
She realized that her daughter had to go to college by herself. She realized that the love between them would never be cut off. Sophie's present had made her forget her sorrow. Sophie's new friends were calling her outside the dormitory.