Dad had been in Cork for a few days. I drove him back to Tipp. We dropped into Aldi in Thurles to get a few groceries. It was the day of the Leaving Cert results. My nephew, Conor, had got a fine result. I was looking forward to congratulating him in person, but he was already gone out even though it was not yet 6pm. The celebrations had begun.

It is such a difficult dynamic for parents. The relief floods in once a good result has been revealed. You are so happy for them, but then you have to let them off to celebrate with their peers. You want them to be safe. You’ve given them all the tools of good behaviour, but you still worry about the unknown dimension of manic celebration and youthful euphoria.

Nevertheless, it is time to sit down and toast what you’ve come through, from toddler to teen and beyond. Those school years are formative and so very important. School can only give them so much, but it’s the home ethos and environment that moulds them into solid, well rounded, confident individuals, ready to face the world. It is time to celebrate the guidance that you’ve given.

Doing my job

I placed my few groceries up on the conveyer belt and watched as they inched forward. There was a lovely young man in front of me. He was well dressed and had a little girl with him. He put up his groceries. They were quite interesting really; milk, bread, biscuits and two large bottles of vodka. The bottles were carefully laid down, so as not to roll. The milk, bread and biscuits went through.

The store assistant reached for the first bottle and as he did, he looked up and paused: “May I see your ID please?” The young man was as cool as a cucumber and proffered the ID. The store assistant looked directly at the young man and scrutinised the ID. As a Mom well past this milestone of age group and worry, I relished the whole interchange.

“This is not you” said Irec. By now I had noted his nametag. I had also realised that here was one “bowld” Leaving Cert intent on having a good night.

“It’s me,” says he, throwing up his hands in exasperation at the indignation of the suggestion. The little girl looked up with big eyes. She was obviously told not to open her mouth. The “this is not you” and “it’s me” went back and forth.

Irec then landed his body blow while waving the ID card at him: “I’ll tell you why this is not you because I know this guy and what’s more I know you too. I’m declaring a no sale here.” I wanted to clap. No answer came because there was no answer to give. The young man, unruffled, paid for his groceries and moved on. Irec contacted his supervisor to tell him what he had done. He then recorded the incident on a clipboard. I was delighted with his actions and complimented him for them.

He answered: “It is my job.” Without further comment. He was so right though. If everyone in pubs, supermarkets and off-licences took the same attitude, then underage drinking might not be such a problem.

I’m not naive. I know they can get older friends to buy the stuff for them. I know that some students will have the stash put away for a while. Most Mammies know this. All you can do is trust in the job that you have done rearing them. Alcohol is dangerous and addictive and needs to be discussed openly around the kitchen table.

Let them go

This time is also the start of the major break from home. So the most important thing that you can do is to let them go.

Most of these young men and women have their sights set on the next step of college, most probably away from home. They will undoubtedly make mistakes. We all did. Some won’t study and they will suffer the pain of repeats and so on. They will learn the hard way. Some students are just more mature than others. Some will choose the wrong path and have to begin again.

Each student must forge his or her unique path and more than likely fall into the same traps as the generation before. That’s life. Their challenge is to make a home away from home and they always do, while building amazing friendships.

I’m in the happy place of being finished with it all. But I love having an interest in someone who is going through it and lending a hand where I can. There are still lots of nieces and a nephews to keep me interested.