I had eagerly awaited this day. A tingle of excitement rushed through my body as I anxiously weaved my way through family and friends who stood waiting to bid me goodbye in the terminal of the Maui airport on a mid-August night in 1998.

In minutes, I would be hopping on a plane to California to start my freshman year at the University of San Francisco.

My parents, who always supported and even pushed my decision to leave for a Mainland school, huddled around me. If they were apprehensive or scared about my leaving, they never showed it. My dad put his arm around me, and my younger brother, who was 14 at the time, actually kissed me on the cheek. My mom, who was the only one traveling with me just to get me settled in, ushered me into the boarding line.

But at that moment I looked back at the sea of faces of people who have been there throughout my life. And as they waved at me and I waved back, my throat tightened and I was bawling like a big baby.

It was like being at the top of the first drop on a rollercoaster ride. I turned to my mom and wailed, “I’m not ready to go yet! I don’t want to go!”

My mom hushed me and got me onto the plane, and I sat there sobbing and sniffling miserably.

A lady sitting in back of us leaned forward and whispered in my mom’s ear, “Poor thing! She must be leaving for college?”

My mom nodded, patted me on the knee and handed me a tissue.

New beginnings

When we drove into San Francisco early the next morning, the fog was rolling into the bay, making it gray and cold. It matched my mood and I looked at everything with scared, wide eyes. I couldn’t believe I was actually there. We were surrounded by tall skyscrapers and a gazillion cars.

Later that week, when we finally arrived at my school, cheerful students who were part of the freshmen orientation team greeted us. The day was filled with registration, touring the campus and moving into my room. Then, it was time for my mom to leave for the night. She had to fly back to Maui the next morning.

I walked her out and started to say goodbye, but the truth was, I really wanted to scream, “Don’t leave me!”

My mom — who was my rock throughout the entire ordeal — tightly hugged me. When we pulled apart, in the dim streetlight I could see her eyes glistening with tears. Seeing this made me choke with emotion. We hugged again and all we could muster up were whispered I love you’s to each other.

After the tears

For the next three days, I cried and cried and cried. I felt utterly alone when I sat in my room, looked around at my surroundings and saw nothing familiar.

But when I called my parents — which was often — no matter how much I wanted to go home, I bit my lip and simply told them, “I’m fine.”

It hit me hardest when I was alone. I cried when I woke up in the morning. I cried in the shower. I cried myself to sleep.

I thought I would be miserable forever.

But, on the third day, I realized I was actually starting to have fun. My roommate from Los Angeles and I stayed up all night gossiping and giggling. We introduced ourselves to people on our floor, and some of them have even turned into my best friends today.

We ventured out into the city, and I was starting to relish my newfound independence.

I was having so much fun that after that third day in San Francisco, I never felt homesick again. After only a week, my parents called with concern saying they hadn’t heard from me in a while.

I told them, “I love it here.”

“We were just wondering. We thought you were lost!” my dad joked.

Ready to move on

When I came back to Maui for Christmas break that first year, I found that my room had been turned into a storage room. The ironing board, the vacuum cleaner and my brother’s unwanted junk had all found a new place in my old room.

It wasn’t that my parents didn’t miss me. They did. They just knew I wouldn’t ever consider it to be “my room” again.

I shared my stories with them. They listened and pored over the pictures of my new friends and school. My mom occasionally looked over at my dad during our conversation.

“What?” I asked.

“You called San Francisco your home,” my mom said.

“Ooh, yeah,” I shrugged, hoping they wouldn’t mind. “I do that a lot now, by accident.”

I don’t know what my parents were thinking, but they smiled at each other.

Hawai‘i will always be my true home. But it was at that moment, I think, we all realized I was finally ready to let go.

Advice for Mainland-bound Isle students

Advertiser staff writers Catherine E. Toth, Shayna Coleon and Adrienne Ancheta have each attended Mainland colleges. They and some college counseling experts offer more ideas to help Mainland college-bound students and their parents prepare.

• Make a packing checklist. Do this at least a month in advance. Indicate how each item should be transported, whether via UPS or as a carry-on. It will later serve as an inventory list when checking to make sure everything arrived.

• Call the roommate ahead of time. This will allow roomies to “meet” over the phone or Internet, coordinate what each will bring, and set a meeting time and place.

• Find the Hawai‘i club. Many schools have Hawai‘i clubs, which often organize airport send-offs and greetings, and provide transportation from the receiving airport to the campus. Some clubs also help plan student and parent orientations during the first week of school.

• Collect contacts. Fill an address book with names, phone numbers, and snail-mail and e-mail addresses of the student’s family and friends. Don’t forget stamps.

And, here’s some advice just for students:

• Take reminders of home. Homesickness is a given. Packing posters, photos, even cheesy postcards can liven up your dorm room and your spirit. And don’t forget the Hawaiian music; you may not like it now, but you’ll miss it when you’re thousands of miles away from your Island home.

• Go to all freshman orientation events. They may sound lame, but they can help put you more in sync with fellow students and the new school.

• Be ready to explain over and over again about living in Hawai‘i. Mainland friends will ask Hawai‘i students endlessly about why anyone would ever want to “leave paradise.” Yet being from Hawai‘i also has its advantages: You can always make conversation about your pidgin English accent.