It had been a dreamy three months, the kind of time Michigan music legend Kid Rock recalls in his recent hit tune, “All Summer Long.”

My elder son had just left his job of three summers at an old-fashioned vacation resort in Leelanau County, where he’d worked with his best buddy and several other college kids. Three consecutive, carefree summers of bonfires, barbecues, water skiing, romance, and sunsets, with a little work thrown in.

Maybe you had a college summer like that. Full of friends, freedom and nights where you could see the stars, where those first turning August leaves hinted at the end of something special that you’d only repeat in your memories.

But, after a stop in Chicago, it was time last week for Guy to leave that cocoon and return to Michigan State for his senior year.

And with that, like a chilly fall wind, came the rush of responsibility and a cartful of worries. The questions began to nip at him the moment he hit campus and began setting up his apartment.

I have two more years of college, how will I afford school after this year, when my “parental scholarship” that Dad so often refers to finally runs out?

How will I repay the loans I must take out?

How will I support anyone after I graduate?

How can I get work now that relates to my plan to become a teacher?

He spent a few fitful days at MSU, and then returned home for an interview that related to a job back in East Lansing. He was eager to talk and share concerns.

Calm down, I said. Look at your situation. You are beginning another year at a renowned, exciting university. You’re on a solid career path, with the love and support of your friends and parents. Fall tuition is paid. This should be a great time for you.

But then I remembered a morning 30 years ago, my first day of classes at the University of Michigan after returning from a similar summer at that same job up north. I awoke in my grungy fraternity room feeling lonely and scared. It was senior year and time to confront an uncertain future.

I worried whether I could afford grad school, and about my job as sports editor at The Michigan Daily. I guessed that my fraternity brothers, mostly engineers, would land good jobs in a dreary economy while I went broke and turned pathetic.

Now, with the gift of hindsight, it’s clear that what I told my son last week also applied to me. Yes, I found a job in journalism. Yes, I could afford graduate school. Yes, I could support a family (Although it didn’t hurt that I married a lawyer.).

I told my son that one thing I’d learned was to separate your thoughts and fears from reality, to just do your best and take life a day at a time. In comforting him, I reminded myself of an important lesson.

We walked and talked over several days, noting that the recent closure of The Ann Arbor News has me searching for a job as well. I helped him with a cover letter, and then showed him one of mine.

After a weekend at home, we drove back to campus and his world began to settle down. After one shift, he quit a job in a convenience store that had bad hours and didn’t mesh with his career goals. He turned down another offer because he didn’t have a car to get there early in the morning.

All good decisions, I said. Just keep moving forward and do what you think is right for you. He soon got a job in the College of Social Science, work that offered good hours in a vibrant, relevant setting.

Problems solved. Another life hurdle overcome.

And another magic summer ends. Bring on senior year, where the lessons will continue, for both father and son.

Geoff Larcom is a long-time journalist and native of Ann Arbor who writes a weekly column for AnnArbor.com. He can be reached at glarcom@gmail.com.