It’s the time when most moms begin the ritual of sending their loved-ones off to college. The universal problem—no one wants summer to end, and it falls on the shoulders of moms to get the ball rolling.

I had two very different experiences regarding the concept of ‘taking my child to college.’ My eldest received my complete emotional (and physical) involvement every step of the way. His younger brother’s experience was much smaller in scale, not by design.

When our son was accepted to Notre Dame University our entire family was very happy. We live 2,100 miles from Indiana. Packing the car and driving 5-days cross-country was ruled out. Instead, we flew and bought what we needed. Managing loads of laundry we packed four, large duffle bags, mainly summer wear (who thinks of packing for an artic winter from southern California) hours before we had to leave for the airport. I had the pleasure of ‘owning’ the final curtain bow—the quintessential end of parenting. OK, my husband had this figured out long ago; he was out-of-town on business.

Our flight was enjoyable, my son manned his iPod and I read a good book. We rented an SUV and drove to NDU. I felt comfortable walking through the halls looking at half naked men—no one seemed to flinch. I did feel a pang when I saw the size of his room, and realized it had to fit two.

In no time we introduced ourselves to strangers from around the 50 United States. We met his roommate and parents who were helping unpack. His mom, Nancy, & I became fast friends. She made me feel immediately at ease. Nancy, mother of twin sons attending NDU, had her hands full, and pointed us where we needed to buy a few things: lamp, rug, and trashcan. No big deal.

Walking through Meijer’s I felt my heart go into credit card ‘arrest.’ I figured that would happen to my husband at the end of this billing cycle, but not me, not now! If the doublewide shopping carts weren’t enough, the sheer number of ‘hyper’ college kids chased by exasperated, middle-aged parents maneuvering sometimes 3 overflowing carts, should have made us reconsider college. But we were troupers, and jumped into the fray with gusto!

We assumed a java-jolt of ‘manic shopping mode’ and grabbed what we needed and didn’t. Everything was jumbo-sized or on SALE: 124 loads of laundry, 24 soap bars, 16 paper rolls, 500 disinfectant sheets. This all made sense—it will last through winter. No one asked, “where’s the storage?” in a 10×10 cubical, the University called a room.

Around 9:30 pm we staggered to our room. In bed we laughed about our frenzied shopping experience, and said goodnight. As I started relaxing, my body felt like it was pushing carts, every shoulder muscle ached. The next day we get got up and did it again. Then came the good-bye.

I don’t think there is anything that prepares a mom for separation. Two things happen simultaneously; your child, after arriving, declares independence; secondly, your job has been terminated/pink-slipped. All this happens suddenly. They grow up in a nanosecond! While they love you, they take ownership of their vessel and destiny. It is time to wish them bon voyage, with all the strength you can muster for this moment.

It is not easy saying good-bye. In fact, it is heart wrenching watching moms cry into crinkled tissues, comforted by husbands who know the drill. Dads cry too—what a sharp contrast from two days ago when everybody was so jubilant. I thought NDU was awful, however, but I didn’t anticipate the tsunami of emotions that hit once I boarded the plane minus my travel companion.

When it came time for my younger son to go to college, I was ready. But somewhere along his senior year the sequence of events changed. My son was awarded an athletic scholarship to a university. Three weeks before college, he was asked to “try-out” for a professional team in LA. We held back from making plane reservations to see how this would unfold. The try-out went smoothly, and he considered the developmental contract and postponing college.

I mentally prepared myself for his “move-out” one-hour from our home, but we booked one-ticket east, just in case. Around 8:30 pm, he announced that he decided to go to college and forego the Pro-contract. His plane departed LAX at 6:35 am, T-minus 6-hours. NOTHING was laundered, organized or packed!

“OK,” we said and started scrambling through his things without checking if anything fit. “We would travel in the fall, and bring him more then,” we thought as we maneuvered his piles of clothes into two duffle bags.

The drive to LAX was quite. Overhead we heard a Public Announcement: “Remove all Liquids From Luggage To Avoid Baggage Delays.” That was all we needed—what ciaos! We rifled though the bags in search for liquids and pulled out: shampoos, toothpaste, liquid soap, all supplies.

We hugged good-bye and he took his place in line. I could feel tears swell in my eyes, but it was nothing compared to 3-years ago. As he snaked his way though security, he eventually turned and waved good-bye. That was it—yes, I was sad, but it was not the same as being in a sea of sadness with multitudes of families.

We talk to him everyday. He gave us his opinion on the “take your child to college”—he felt it was over-rated, and if he had kids they would experience the same. He watched parents with sons/daughters bawl over separation. He said it was big “drama fest” and he felt it was totally unnecessary. He was happy with his send off and wouldn’t have it any other way—he said, “It was painful enough watching everyone else go through it!”

So there you have it, two very different ways. It’s hard, but try to remember to keep some of it in check—for everyone’s sake.

Coca Hummel – a contributing writer; musings from a wife & mother