I shared this photo on Facebook the other day.

It’s Z at Skyline Chili, his first job that just ended before heading off to college. I also shared a photo of me and my parents at Skyline.

It was 2001, and after doing the math I realized my parents were the age I am now, and I was Zion’s age. The crazy thing is, my life is so different from my mom’s at this age. I still have three kids at home making all kinds of ruckus and needing rides all over the place. My mom, who had her children young, was an empty nester at 41. She always made it look so easy. She was genuinely happy for us and encouraged our independence.

About a year ago, my mom came over for a visit. I could see Z’s graduation date on the horizon and was feeling really uncertain and somewhat sad about these uncharted waters. I confessed, “I’m not like you, Mom. Maybe it’s because you were so young that it changed your perspective, but I’m really emotional about this next stage. It’s not that easy for me like it was for you.”

My mom had a surprised expression and quickly corrected me. “It wasn’t that easy for me either. When I first became an empty nester and your dad and I moved to Kentucky, I struggled with depression. I knew everyone was doing what God had for them, and I was happy for you all, but it was a trying season in my life. Thank God for His faithfulness to get me through it.” She looked down as she recalled the memories. My eyes softened and my worried eyebrows turned empathetic as I heard, for the first time after 25 years, what my mom had secretly struggled with. It wasn’t scary or unhealthy. It was just a season to walk through—and even my strong, independent mom dealt with it. It made me feel a little less crazy for how I was experiencing it.

The days leading up to Z’s move were busy. He packed in as much time with his friends as he possibly could while I continued to nag him about getting his packing done. One week before he left, there was a terrible storm. The power went out, and Z wasn’t home, so I called to make sure he was safe. In the meantime, the rest of us made the most of our time without electricity by playing a card game. I really wished Z were in on it since he was about to move. An hour later the storm had subsided, the power was still out, and we were still playing cards when the front door opened. Zion! We all cheered, and then he joined us for a few rounds of Swoop.

It was one of those full-heart moments.

Later in the week we finished watching The Artful Dodger Season Two, which we’d been watching together. It was a full-heart moment.

We hosted one last sleepover with all his guy friends the Saturday before he left, then on Sunday we had a big backyard party.

Watching all these kids/young adults who have been such a big part of Z’s life scattered throughout the yard, laughing, playing, swinging, and singing, was another full-heart moment for me that I thank God for.

On moving day I used a personal day at work, and my mom came up to hold down the fort with the other kids while J and I got Z all moved into his dorm. He’s sharing a room with three other guys—one he knows and two who are assigned. He has a nice little corner of the room with a lofted bed and a desk and dresser underneath. There’s a large window with a view of the city. Never having your own room or a mattress larger than a twin is kind of a bummer, but the advantage is that he didn’t have to downgrade for dorm life! He brought the same sheets he uses at home and lived in way smaller quarters throughout his childhood. He’s got this!

Emotionally, J and I have been all over the place. It’s a very surreal feeling leaving your child, even though they’re technically an adult. My head knows this is what we’ve been working toward all along, but my heart is still trying to come to terms with it. As a mom, you spend so many years teaching your child to be brave, to get out there, try new things, do hard things. We know they don’t want to brush their teeth, eat their vegetables, get a shot, or go to bed, but we assure them that it is what is good for them. Now it’s my turn. This is hard. I don’t want to be away from him. I don’t want to do this. But I know that it is what is best for him, and I am trusting God, who cares about him more than I do, to guide him and cover him as he is away at college.

It has only been a week, so I am still an emotional wreck at times. I hear Ez and think it’s Z. I see his empty bed with the “dorm packing list” sitting on top of the mattress. I see his car and for a split second think he’s home, but he’s not. He left his car here, and SJ will be driving it soon. I go to FinalForms to register the kids for school and his name is still listed with the notation “Graduated. No action needed.”

As much as I am sad, I am also so full of gratitude. I am grateful to have a son who is so incredibly amazing to be around that it hurts when he is gone. And despite all the tears, I am genuinely excited for this next chapter.