Back in August, we drove our oldest two states away, unpacked all of her essential needs for life, set up her room, hugged her hard, and then we drove away.
"How's she doing?"
She's doing fine. We get random text messages during the week: "How do you clean up Tide that has leaked overnight?" Has been my favorite so far.
If she's been homesick, she hides it well. I think she's probably too busy to be homesick: Her program of study is pretty intense, and she's in the marching band. She barely sleeps.
"How are you doing?"
I'm fine. I think some parents have some sort of big existential crisis after they send a kid to college.
That has not been me.
She was so busy with school, band and work her senior year, we barely saw her. In many ways, that year gave us time and space to be used to her upcoming departure.
That's not to say I didn't cry as we drove away. (I did.) It was strange not having her walk through the door at 10 p.m. each night with angst about her food service job.
I still ask for a table for five at restaurants, which exasperates my husband, and cracks the other two kids up.
But ultimately, she's fine. I'm fine.
That's how it should be. You raise them to leave the nest. That's your job.
Then you push them out, let them go, and watch them fly.