<p>Cosmopolitan, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like crying about it too. It seems so unfair that these kids of ours are focused forwards on their own lives and not backwards toward us. However, I suspect that it was designed that way to keep humankind in business. It's that old "roots and wings" story, you know?</p>
<p>I WAS a basketcase when S left in September. The sight of him leaning up against his dorm as H and I walked away (me sobbing) is etched in my memory. I didn't cry after that day -- except for when I see S or he leaves after a visit -- I'm surprised he still lets me come to the airport because I continue to embarrass him. </p>
<p>It's the days, weeks and months in between when I don't cry, and I don't think about him every moment but somehow am aware that I am not as happy as I am when he is here and that my H and my younger S are not as happy as they are when he is here. There's an emptiness that is hard to describe and which makes little sense, since older S is a taciturn young man. </p>
<p>I think it's just that for a mother, particularly, a time comes when she must confront the reality that her natural desire to keep her family close must experience a geographical conversion, with close meaning "somewhere on this planet. (God help the parents of astronauts...)</p>