***This post was written as I was sending my oldest to college for the first time. If you are in that boat this year, I feel for you! Hang in there! It will be okay! xoxo

The time I have been dreading has come. The lazy days of summer are quickly fading and it is time to help my son pack for college. This is forcing me to think about what awaits him in the months ahead. I also find myself wondering what he will really need from me as he heads off to start a life on his own.

I knew this day was coming. For 18 years this day has always been coming. I just never really wanted to look at it. It seems unnatural really, sending my child off to live with total strangers. Trusting people I don’t even know to help him if he’s sick. To help him if he’s lost. To help him if he’s lonely.

After raising this person for eighteen years, I am now expected to help him shop and pack to begin a life without me. I am still trying to make sense of it.

[Tweet “After raising this kid for eighteen years I am now expected to help him begin a life without me?”]

This transition is quite a dichotomy for me actually. I had an amazing time in college. Truly some of the best years of my life. It was an exciting time which allowed me to grow and flourish. I met my dearest friends there. I look back on that time with a full heart.

My son will be attending my alma mater and I know in my gut his experience will be the same. As college situations go for needy mothers, this one is pretty ideal. He will be walking the same campus I walked, attending classes in the same buildings I attended, and “socializing” in the same greek houses as I did.  It is a known entity and this eases my mind.

But, my heart has not quite gotten on board.

My mind understands that this is supposed to happen. It is the natural progression of things. It’s part of growing up. He needs this. I can tell he is ready for the next step. So, throughout his nervous excitement and trepidation about the unknown, I need to keep smiling through my sadness. I need to sequester my feeling of loss and support him as he takes this step. Because it is about him, not me. I need to keep a brave face and assure him it will be great. Because it will.

I don’t totally hide my sadness though. I tell him I am sad and I will miss him fiercely. But, as parents, we have become masters at sacrificing our needs for our children. This is what being a parent is all about and we do it readily. It’s like when we dropped our kids off for the first day of kindergarten. No matter how scared WE were, we just had to kiss them, tell them we loved them, that it would be ok, and pick them up when we said we would at the end of the day.

This helped our kids start on their path to independence all those years ago and these same things will help them now.

[Tweet “Dropping our kids at college is like the first day of kindergarten.”]

What our college kids need us to do:

What we need to do first is love them.

This is the easy part. We need to say it loud and often.  As they are getting ready to leave, we need to talk with them.  We need to be there. When they say they want to go grab a burger for lunch but don’t have any money, we take them. When they are acting crazy or angry because of the fear they have inside and can’t express it, we need to understand. We simply need to love them.

This next one starts the hard parts and you’re not going to like what I’m going to say.

When move in day comes, we need to leave them.

After we have them all moved in and are sure they are ready, even if we are not, we need to leave. We need to give them a huge hug and kiss and turn and walk out that door. Although it goes against everything we are feeling in the moment, we need to leave. If they are ready to start making new friends and exploring their new home without us hovering, we need to listen.

Just like in kindergarten, we need to leave. The more we hang around the door, peering in the window, the more they feel there is something to be afraid of. The more we hover, the more they feel like we don’t think they can do it. As backwards as this sounds and as hard as this will be, we need to let them go.

And trust me, on the walk to the car and during the long drive home, every cell in your body will be screaming how wrong this feels. Keep going anyway.

After we have gone, we need to let them try on their new-found independence and see how it feels. It’s hard for them to do that if we never really leave. If we call or text them multiple times a day. If we try to micromanage their classes, their relationships, their life. If we encourage them to come home whenever they have free time. If we do these things, they will never have a chance to grow.

[Tweet “We need to allow our college kids the space to grow.”]

 We need to be there when we say we will.

Once they are settled in we need to be reliable. We need to call or text when we say we will. Just like when they were in kindergarten, we still need to be consistent. When they reach out to us for something, we will help them handle it. We need to take cues from them on how much and when, but we need to make ourselves available to them. This will reassure them we are there and always will be. Because we will.

As they spread their wings to fly they need to know we will catch them if they fall.

And then we need to love them some more.

After they are in their groove, they’ve met new friends, adjusted to their classes, and are well on their way-we need to love them. We need to do things to ensure they know we are in their corner and are confident in their new adventure. We can send them care packages just because. Send them texts out of the blue just saying Hi. Or one of my favorites . . . instead of a text, send a stream of silly emojis or a funny vine . . . no words. This way my son knows I’m there, but I’m not doing my usual inquisition.

I know leaving them is easier said than done. And believe me, it isn’t easy. But, I do believe it is necessary.

As I look at the empty space at the dinner table where my son usually sits. As I walk by his room with the neatly made bed. As I long to hear the bickering of my two kids and the yelling of my own voice telling them to stop. I will remember this. I will remember this is supposed to happen. As wrong as it feels in my heart in so many ways, it needs to happen.  He needs to be on his own to truly discover who he is and who he will become.

And he needs to do it on his own.

Salty Kisses,