When your child leaves home

You knew it was coming. Months of planning went into it. Choosing, visiting, waiting, packing, registering. Leaving. Leaving. Years really. You dig deep to find the best you you can - not too clingy, not too distant. Appropriately helpful without being controlling. Cheery, hopeful, upbeat. All goes well right until the end when you hug your goodbye and it all suddenly gets real. How is this happening? When did he get so tall? So grown up? You feel suddenly small. There’s a warning tug in your gut and your mask crumples. Tears sting at your eyes. You hug a little tighter, just for a moment, just in case… And then he’s gone, a little uncertainly, towards the Welcome Zone. A last look, just to be sure, then you walk back to the car, step in and it’s over. The door closes and it’s suddenly quiet. The journey home is a hazy memory. Amazing what you can do on auto pilot. You get home and have a conversation that goes something like this: “How d...