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This whole post brought tears to my eyes. Your storytelling put me right back in it with my now 3 grown children…

(one who just moved out for the 2nd time this June, on a full launch this time though~now graduated, to another city~(Brooklyn) & a career he’d been hoping for).

I miss his easy demeanor, his sense of humor, his stories; the way he’d sidle up to me when I was on the couch, etc.

Your bedtime ritual & frolic in the rain was such a delight! So filled with warmth & a dash of magic!

It reminded me of our own carpet picnics & silly dance parties; giggles, songs, silly little rituals~& so many memories that feel so far away at times.

And then, when I look at my youngest & last baby~now 15 & my nephew~8 (who we raise, & how he resembles my younger son so much) it makes for a sort of deja vu-at least for my body memory.

Thank you for this chance to remember & oh, thank you for these gorgeous poems~just Perfect for this piece & life in general.

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Thank you for sharing this, Colleen. It's the most bittersweet, heart-opening, mind-bending thing in the world to love people this way, isn't it? To be ready to give every single thing you've got, to have your vulnerability pressed right up to your face, to cherish these little people with their funny sayings and huge eyes, to watch them take in the world around them and grow and grow and grow, all the while knowing if you do it well, you are preparing them to leave you. And all the while knowing that when they do, it's going to be a thing you have to celebrate, so they have the strength and confidence to do it, even if it breaks your heart a little. Sigh. Sob. Sending you so much love.

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Well, yes!!! Precisely put.

Ironic that we have done our job well when they feel the desire & confidence to leave us. Sigh. Sob. & Smile with pride.

I suppose this is life-cycles of loving & letting go.

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I just had one leave again, too, Colleen. Full launch to another continent. I miss mine, too--all the small things. It's all good, but also hard.

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Sending you love, too, Rita. And hugs.

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Oh Rita- another continent is very hard indeed. 😢

I’ve had 2 of mine study abroad in Madrid & Positano, & this felt discombobulating for me; required I hold loosely & trust; focus on their adventures & the joy it was bringing them.

A full launch though!! My oh my- your Mama heart. ♥️

Not sure if it will bring you any comfort but my daughter sent me a video that expanded on “mircochimerism” (spelling may be off). I’d very briefly included this in my eulogy to my mom so she knew I’d like it.

What she sent me went on to say that not only has research found dna of our children years & decades later inside of us, (that their dna helps ours fight infection!!🤯)

but the Reverse is Also true!!!

Which is to say that our mama dna mixes with theirs too!!!

I haven’t vetted this to cite for you but I plan to.

For now though- maybe some comfort to think that we walk with them & they with us- in heart, soul, and Cell.🥰

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There is comfort in that, thank you. 🥹 It was study abroad that led to this move; she fell in love, dang it. With the country and one of its people. He happens to be wonderful--which is wonderful!--and I'm happy she has the opportunities she has. And sad that they are so far from her home. It's a very mixed bag of feelings!

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Awe-yes- I So get this-

the “both/and” juxtapositions of mothering, & altogether Humaning really.

She is Lucky to have such a supportive Mama in you.

And So exciting and beautiful to have found love- near or far.

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My only child is a 16-year-old junior in high school. He's all of the things to me I don't need to explain to you because you have one (two, actually), and you get it on that inconvenient, messy human, down-in-our-guts level that your writing exudes better than most.

His exit from my daily life is probably the thing I dread and fear most in the world. 0-18 ourselves? Torturously slow. 0-18 for our kids? Faster than literally every other thing I've tried to hold on to.

Anyway. Thanks for writing this. Cheers to your son. I hope he has a magnificent adventure doing whatever comes next.

I hope you'll keep writing about it. Some of us will need your guidance in five seconds when our kids move out.

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I'm only two days in, so I don't think I have much wisdom to share yet - except that I am finding as long as he is good, having fun, making friends and finding his way, I'm okay. That alone feels profound and is a huge relief. The rest of it is just a messy transition into this strange new normal of missing him and feeling a bit bereft. But yes, I will keep writing about it and yes, I now realize how fast my fifteen-year-old will be out the door, too. I really feel for parents who went through this before we had texting and FaceTime!

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Ahhh... all we can do as parents is marinate them in love, be there when they need us and get out of the way when they don't. It's a hard lesson to learn, but an eternal one. Your kids will be fine.

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Oh I know *they’re* going to be fine lol. It’s me. But I know I’m going to be fine, too. Just gotta get used to this and give myself some time and permission to grieve a little 🤍

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Gosh... I loved every single word you wrote. May you and your son have a great weekend together and may it all go well.

Be safe and enjoy every single moment.

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Thank you so much, Katty 🤍

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This sentence--"It’s a strange thing to grow a person inside your body, to go through the insanity of childbirth, to spend the majority of your time and energy keeping them alive for eighteen years, only to drive them to college one weekend, and then drive away."--that was the thing that knocked the wind out of me. It just felt so weird, and wrong, to have such a profound shift happen so suddenly, bloodlessly, and undramatically. And it's so common! Here I am, 8 years later (and honestly, just fine) but it still feels so strange. Maybe it would feel less this way if the world were in a more stable place? Empathizing with everything you expressed here.

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Yes, I agree it's harder because everything feels so uncertain. And even if it didn't, it feels very strange. You know it's coming, but when it does it just feels odd, like...okay, after 18 years of trying to make sure you have what you need and you stay alive and you feel loved and secure, and you learn about how to be kind in a world that sometimes crushes you...after making sure your seatbelt is fastened and your homework is done and your permission slips are signed and you have the new pants you need because you grew again while you were sleeping...after talking to you about friends, heartbreaks, and what makes a relationship good...after all of that, I turn it over to you, now. I trust you've got this. But I'm here, I'm a text away, a FaceTime away, please keep your location services on so I know you're alive...it's a strange threshold. And I know it will be fine and it will be beautiful and we have so much in front of us, but I'm also letting myself grieve a little. And I'm sending you love.

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Sending love back to you. I smiled at "please keep your location services on so I know you're alive." I can relate! I think it's important to let yourself grieve a little. Or even a lot. It's a loss--of all the things you list so eloquently here. My wonderfully wise daughter helped me understand it when she came home for the holidays her freshman year: "It's not as hard for me, because there's no Mom hole at school. But I know you've got a Grace hole where I used to be." There was such a big hole! Because she was such a big part of my day-to-day. I wish we did more as a culture to acknowledge that. When we are sad (and maybe, at first feeling a little lost) it just speaks to the hole. It fills, eventually. I wish we'd all be OK with acknowledging the complexity of it--there's grief, relief, joy, possibility, so many things.

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Reading this comment sitting in the parking lot of the hotel. My son is heading to a party, I sent my daughter inside ahead of me and I’m having a good cry. Kind of an ugly cry but it’s fine. Definitely letting myself grieve. And your Grace sounds like a very smart person. That’s exactly it. I’m about to have a Dylan sized hole 😔💔 Thanks for your comments Rita xx

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Thank you Ally. As a mum of 2 small daughters - 18 months and 4 years old this is a wonderful reminder to cherish every moment. To go for the walks in the rain and make time for the silly stuff. Little Mabel and Veda also thank you for this reminder. Sending love ❤️

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Oh Julia, it's so good to hear from you. And I'm glad this was a sweet reminder. I know you already cherish the moments and your sweet girls. And I'm sending you, Veda and Mabel a lot of love. Here's to walks in the rain, forts in the living room, and lots of laughter xx

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Beautiful writing. Thank you.

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Thank you for sharing, Denise ❤️

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That was really beautiful and a great reminder that sometimes love is all there is and all there needs to be.

Both of those poems are touching, and I don't even have kids (although I am a daughter!) but they made me a little weepy.

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Thanks so much, Kate. Pulled over for lunch. Trying to keep it together out here 🥹🤍

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Needed this one today… thank you!

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You're very welcome <3

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So moving, Ally. It’s an unforgettable milestone and the way you’ve described your evolving relationship with your children to get to this point is gorgeous. Love the poems, too.

I’m reminded of this poem by Linda Pastan, which I first read when my triplet daughters were about to leave for university, titled To A Daughter Leaving Home:

https://www.loc.gov/programs/poetry-and-literature/poet-laureate/poet-laureate-projects/poetry-180/all-poems/item/poetry-180-075/to-a-daughter-leaving-home/

But these milestones lead to joys, too. My 22-year old son is on a trip to Paris (from England) at the moment, and one of his 37-year old sisters decided to join him for a few days. It brings me such joy, the thought of these adult siblings born 15 years apart choosing to hang out and see culture together.

Love to you and I’m thinking of you, Ally.

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Oh my gosh, well now I'm crying! That was so beautiful, and that's exactly it. It's as it should be, and it also rips your heart out. And your job is to wave and smile bravely. I know it's all going to be wonderful, it already is. I'm just letting myself have all the feels right now. Thanks for understanding. Sending you lots of love, Wendy, and to your kids, too. I love that two of them are traveling together. And someday you have to tell me how you managed triplets! I'm in awe xx

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Really nice work. Thank you.

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Thanks so much, Margaret.

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Hi Ally, thank you as always for a brilliant essay. I had a few thoughts in my head as I was reading. On Thursday I smashed my phone at work and with that came a plethora of annoying consequences, luckily most of them are now resolved. I came home, upset, also my leg was hurting and as I was setting up my new phone, I had a spare older one, Anneke send me a voice note if I wanted to go on a walk with her dog, Kim, Belgian malinois and luckily I was able to log back on new phone and I said of course. I also brought two amazing cakes I had from work as we had a charity event. We sat on a bench and ate delicious cakes. Maltesers rocky road and biscoff and marshmallows. We usually say after spending time together "this was good fun" and she often says "yeah, it was amazing fun", which always makes me feel delighted because quite frankly I'm quite cynical when it comes to fun, but I must admit, there's nothing I would prefer over just being with her, listening to her teenage opinions. So I totally understand how you and your kids are close. I love how you describe it, how I can connect and feel as we are on similar path here on this Earth and thousands of of miles between us don't matter. One thing I love Internet for is the ability to connect, genuinely if you want, with anyone no matter how far.

I wish you and your family all the best as always and hope all goes well with the send off.

Namaste 🙏

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It gives me hope that your children will be out in the world spreading the love you instilled in them. And you've helped me take a breath after several weeks of conflict with my mother. Can we distill Mary Oliver's essence into a cream to rub all over ourselves when times get tough?

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Ally, I had to stop reading a couple times, teary, and just pause and reflect on your words, then the photo of your mom's hand and yours. This whole piece moved me so deeply.

I know we lost our moms around the same time. I'm also not far behind you with the kids leaving... my daughter's looking at colleges now, and so I feel every bit of that, too. My son's in 8th grade, but it all feels equally fast-moving, and I'm always, always learning (and re-learning) to let go. It's the hardest thing we ever have to learn.

Though I'm back east now, I grew up near the SM pier. We've taken our kids there many times on visits back "home." It's such a beautiful memory, the rainstorm and the pier lit up beyond. What an amazing thing to send your son out into the world with memories like that, and all the love attacks—of which, there will be many more to come.

Hope drop-off goes okay. Thank you for such a beautiful post.

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What a beautiful essay. I dropped my son off at college over a month ago and the ache of his absence is heavy. But watching him soar, laughing at pictures of the hilarious meals he makes and hearing the passion brought forth by talented professors softens the pain. I’m beginning to think this is what unconditional love feels like. Only took 52 years to figure it out. Thanks for writing to your readers’ hearts.

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I love this, Ally. It’s so tender and beautiful. The way a persons children love them says so much to me about the person. It says everything to me about you and the love you put into the world. Sending big hugs. Text if you feel alone. I’ll remind you you’re not. xo

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