The hardest was when she left for college. We dropped her off a couple days early， so the campus was empty， and I have this very clear image of her walking alone across the quad①. I stared at my daughter’s back while she literally walked into the next phase of her life. So many questions were running through my mind： "Did we prepare her enough？ Is she happy？ Will she feel comfortable enough to tell us if she’s not？" Looking back， I wish I hadn’t fretted② so much over the small stuff. When she was young， we were worried so much about whether she started on the soccer team， or if she got chosen for the front row at the dance competition③， or if she was playing flute④at the recital⑤. We worried so much about that stuff because we were looking for any sort of validation⑥ that we were doing a good job. And in our desperation to be good parents we became our children. I wish I knew how fast all that stuff would fade away⑦. And how little any of that would matter once she became an adult.
　　最難的是她离家去上大学的时候，我们提前几天把她送去的，所以当时校园里空无一人，我清楚地记得：她就那样，独自一人走过那片校园里的四方院。而我，望着女儿的背影，目送她走进了她人生的下一个阶段。好多问题，在我脑子里翻滚：“我们给她做足准备了么？她快乐吗？如果她不快乐，她会乐意告诉我们吗？”回顾过去，我真希望我没在那些小事上操那么多心。她小时候，我们是如此操心：她是否进了足球队；舞蹈比赛她是否被选在前排；或者音乐会上是否有她吹长笛。我们很操心这些事，因为我们在寻找任何一种证明，证明我们做得还不错。我们拼命想成为好父母，我们仿佛成了我们的孩子。我希望过去我知道这些事情会有多快消退，而一旦她长大成人，它们又是多么微不足道。