My disappearing daughter

Fri, 17 Jan 2003 20:38:00 +0000

When I sent my 17-year-old daughter off to college a little over a year ago, what I saw was a confident, smart teenager excited about the future and eager to get off on her own. She was a dead shot from the foul line in basketball and a whiz at math and physics, she looked gorgeous, and she could write circles around her dad. I remember thinking, with a mixture of pride and regret, as she headed skyward, "Well, that's one child all grown up and off on her own. One more to go."

That December, at the end of the first semester, my wife and I waited excitedly at the airport for our daughter to come home for the holidays. All that term, she'd been sending home regular e-mails that talked of funny adventures, good times with zany friends, the occasional problems with courses or boys -- in short, a typical first semester away at school.

We expected an exhilarated student; instead we were confronted with an apparition: A 5'6" scarecrow pushing 100 pounds, about 35 pounds less than when she'd headed off to school, who looked so frail and terrified that I wasn't sure it was my child I was staring at.

Salon.com > John George

My disappearing daughter