"We were feeling what so many talk about as the 'empty nest' syndrome. Thorough devastation." Jenny Coffey

It's graduation time. Exciting. Busy. Filled with parties, plans, pride. And for  parents, the added pain of parting as their chickadees leave the nest. Even the bravest among them will find it's a tough transition.

Our son graduated high school in 2002, college in 2006, got a great job, moved into his own apartment. So we've had to face a rolling series of Empty Nest Traumas. I have some advice for those who've just celebrated a graduation and are facing the Fall.

Prepare yourself, it's not easy. Parents who claim to be thrilled their kids are leaving home are either lying or don't have a good relationship with them. Unless of course the "kids" are pushing 30.

If you've raised them right, you can handle this major, life-altering transition right too. But not without a few--often many--tears.

Brief Back Story
An only child, our kid's at the Independent end of the spectrum. From an early age, whenever he was away from home, he loved the fun and freedom. We loved the privacy.

I still remember the first summer the buses pulled away toward sleep over camp. Eight weeks. Two whole months. Mothers began sobbing on fathers' shoulders. Tearful kids' faces could be seen pressed against the windows.

My husband and I just grinned at each other. I pumped my fist in the air, the universal sign of "YES!" We could see our kid doing the same on the bus.

I like to think he grew up with such self-confidence because we gave him a solid, safe base from which to venture out. The security of knowing we'd still be there.

If you've given your kids a similar sense of independence and freedom, they--and you--will be fine. Eventually.

A Little Rebellion
They're about to embark on an exciting adventure. Especially those moving on to college. They know it means freedom. From the rigid rules of high school. From your prying, if loving, eyes. To make their own choices, on their own.

They might not admit it, but that idea scares them. It's new, unknown territory, inside and out. So first they will need to test you, and themselves. A lot.

Prepare for it. Gird your loins. Put aside bail money. And hope for kindly police officers with kids of their own. 

Because they will do incredibly stupid things, make you wonder what alien life force took over your polite, well-behaved honor student. Many will practice drinking to excess. They might--god forbid--think they can drive that way.

No matter what your kid does, forget speeches about Responsibility. They'll fall on deaf ears, blocked by an iPod and the belief that they already know it all.

Instead, stress cabs, which you will pay for. Or stress that you'll pick them up any place, any time if they're too impaired to drive.

Stress condoms. Over and over. Stress your address. Stress not losing the cell phone ... stress keeping it charged and turned on.

Notice that the key word here is Stress. Get used to it. If you can make it through this summer, you'll have a leg up on the years to come.

My Amazing Sad Truth
We all felt ready for the transition to college. Our son's got a natural ability to adapt, make friends, fit in. He was up for the challenge. My husband and I were looking forward to the privacy we'd enjoyed every summer he went to camp.

We took him to school, helped him unpack, didn't linger. When we left he was relaxed and happy. He'd already lined up a basketball game, a dinner plan and even a date for the weekend. Typical of our self-reliant kid. What a relief.

But. This time as we left him on his own and my husband pointed the car toward home, I didn't pump my fist in the air. I didn't yell, "YES!"

Instead, without warning, I started to sob. I couldn't stop. Curled up on the seat in a ball of misery, weeping uncontrollably, I was quite literally sucker-punched by the cold reality that my child was gone. I was heartbroken.

When we got home I went to bed. Pretty much stayed there for 3 months. Not at all like me. My husband was suffering too, but stoically. He didn't know how to help me but he tried, bless his heart, and accepted I was unable to help him.

When our son called home I managed to be bright and chipper. Listen attentively to tales of college life, offer advice when asked, add money to his bank account, send things he'd forgotten, remind him to get a flu shot, study for that big exam, call his grandparents.

Just those 20 minutes or so trying to sound normal were exhausting. Aside from the phone calls, the rest of the time was a blur of pain and loss.

I made it through Thanksgiving, seemingly my same perky self. But when he left my despair returned full force. I was inconsolable. I simply couldn't regain my inner balance and strength. Couldn't break free of the empty nest nightmare.

The Calm After the Storm
Then he came home for Winter Break. A full month. We all went to Florida to see my folks. Sun, sand, adoring grandparents. And such joy only a mother could feel.

Back home, he and I shopped for stuff he needed. I cooked his favorite meals. Did mountains of laundry. We talked and laughed and hugged. His high school friends came and went as usual, keeping the house bustling and noisy.

He was still happy, relaxed and confident. Maybe even more so. Then the icing on the cake. His grades came. First semester in college, taking all AP courses, he'd scored a 3.9. High honors. Deans List right out of the gate. 

I realized that was the point. Our job --rear him, love him, guide him, point him in the right direction and let him fly-- was essentially done. Hell, he'd soared. It was time to celebrate, to congratulate our accomplishment as well as his.

And just like that, my world righted itself. I shed tears after he left--which I would do routinely for the next 4 years--but the worst was over.

I slowly adjusted to being a contented empty nester as he easily became a strong nestling out in the world. I treasure my own freedom now. The return of marital intimacy that only comes with complete privacy after years of parenthood.

My son and I are closer than ever. He still comes to me for advice. I still cook the occasional favorite meal and do some laundry in a pinch. I'm the same Mom I always was, just to an adult son. (If you can call 24 adult).

But to tell the truth, I ask myself what in god's name is going to happen to me when he gets married?