Leaving my daughter at college the first time was like being hit solidly in the back by a breaking wave. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t know how or when to dive.

I hugged her goodbye in her room about two hours ago. I always try to let her end the hug first, but this time I couldn’t.

At the midpoint of the hug, it came against my will: the time to dive.

I gave her an extra squeeze. I counted aloud the days until I would hug her again. We turned around and walked out the door.

I dove.

We are driving. I’m typing with my thumbs into a little Squarespace app with tears pouring down my cheeks. It’s mile marker 191 and I just broke the surface of my defenses, gasping for air.