I remember that first time clearly, as we were dropping our first daughter off for her voyage in the college years. The experience was just as I expected, and yet nothing close to what I expected.

You see, it was not easy for me to have babies, and when they arrived on the planet, I could not imagine ever letting them go. A natural mothering urge to want to stay together forever and protect that young life. That, of course, changed the day they entered kindergarten, and I had to trust others to help them grow.

Fast forward to the teen years. I adored the teen years as I watched my daughters grow and explore the world around them. I watched them evolve as young adults and challenge the world around them with such wide eyes and passion. Never one to buy into stereotypes, the teenage years were pretty decent in our house, and the door was revolving continuously to include their group of friends.

Almost from the beginning of high school, the discussion surrounded college talk with the many teens who hung out with us. The talks were about where they wanted to go, what they wanted to study, and ultimately who they wanted to be. Often a teenage friend would express frustration that he or she had to study what their parent wanted them to study and that their dreams were not honored, or even heard. Other discussions were about which school to attend, and it almost always had a big name attached to it.

As we rounded the corner to the senior year of high school and college applications went out, my daughter was hoping and dreaming of the “romance” of the east coast and the warm, wooly sweaters, and a Gilmore Girl like environment.

Eventually, she settled on a school locally (which is west coast), and one that she would move into the dorms for. It was easier than commuting, and she could take full advantage of all the college fun the glossy brochures promised.

And that is where you put the brakes on. I can’t even fathom the budget by which a University operates to make those glossy brochures offering trips to the moon if your child so chooses. OK, maybe not the moon, but the mixers, and galas, and the study forums, and the sports, etc… Don’t accept or buy into everything you read in these full-color spreads. Universities are big business, and they need to sell not only the student but also the umbilical cord connected to said child and is, therefore, holding the check book!

Just before the golden front gates are closed for the fall semester, parent orientation meetings are in full swing. The Dean or representative will tell you exactly what you want to hear, and then send you on your merry way. I would have much preferred the student orientation. It seemed my daughter was beaming when she left hers, whereas parents in my group looked like deer in the headlights.

No need to panic. You have trained your child’s whole life for this. You are not cutting any imaginary cord, and I promise, that if you resist the urge to text, call, and email every five minutes your student will gladly contact you. The move was not what I expected. I bought into all of the sappy commercials and articles I had read. As a family, we moved her in and met her roommate, and she checked in later that evening after she settled in. You see, they have just as much anxiety about the brave new world they have entered as you do. There were days over the four years that we did not speak, but I never felt disconnected, as the core values were already in place. Our daughter was ready for the college experience, and so were we. We had prepared her whole life for this transition.

Squeeze hug that little bear cub of yours and say goodbye and walk away. If they resist the affection or are off-putting; fear not. They are probably scared out of their mind! Keep the lines of communication open, and be prepared to catch them when they fall. And yes, they do fall. But you have trained their whole life for these falls. God sees to it. It is why we have on the job training for 18 years. They will want to come home. They may want to drop out. There will be tears; if it is the first time they scored below an A.  You, my friend can handle all of that! Not to worry. Stay the course, handle the sails, and you will not even believe the audible sound of your tears four years later when they cross the stage with a degree in hand!

Bring the Kleenex and cry if you must. But then wipe the tears away, and put on your big girl or big boy boots, and thank God above that you made it this far! Your baby will be OK! They did get into college after all!

Oh, and our daughter? She graduated in four years and will graduate from law school in the next spring. The law school offered a parent orientation. I passed. I did not get into law school. She did, and I think she can handle it. Besides…I was saving my tears for my last child with just three high school years to go!