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My 19-year-old moved across the country with 4 days' notice. What he packed made it easier to let him go.

My oldest son was my only child for three years. I think that built a bond that doesn't exist with any of his four siblings who had to share me from day one with an expanding brood of children.

I can honestly say, I do not have a favorite child, but it was this oldest one who taught me how to be a mother. That included how to let go when the time came.

At the age of 19 after an inauspicious start to college, he moved cross-country to San Francisco, a frequent transition for kids who grow up in Boston.

Since he was the first of my five to depart home, it hit me pretty hard; but it was clear he needed a change and I willingly co-signed his decision.

My son informed me of his impending move on a Monday. He left that Thursday. I didn't discourage him. I'd done the same thing at the same age. Like him, I'd notified my mother that I was leaving home just four days before I actually did. My destination was Phoenix, where I was joining my brother who'd just moved west to accept a job in the desert and had invited me to join him.

I packed my most important worldly possessions in a camp trunk, shipped it out first and then flew to our new home.

My son was riding across the country in a van with three other 19-year-olds. He packed even less than me. I don't remember crying as I watched them depart. I was already thinking about the mess he'd left behind and how it was up to me to clean it up.

Our house was small and with so many children, we'd converted almost every inch of living space into a bedroom. My son's room had been our basement playroom, but when he hit puberty, I wanted him to have privacy away from his younger siblings so sent him downstairs to his own personal lair.

His brother, who still shared a room with two siblings, coveted the space and didn't take long to box up his belongings in anticipation of a move downstairs. Before he could haul his things down, though, I wanted to clear out whatever might have been left behind.

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  • My oldest son was my only child for three years. I think that built a bond that doesn't exist with any of his four siblings who had to share me from day one with an expanding brood of children.
  • I can honestly say, I do not have a favorite child, but it was this oldest one who taught me how to be a mother. That included how to let go when the time came.
  • At the age of 19 after an inauspicious start to college, he moved cross-country to San Francisco, a frequent transition for kids who grow up in Boston.
  • Since he was the first of my five to depart home, it hit me pretty hard; but it was clear he needed a change and I willingly co-signed his decision.
  • My son informed me of his impending move on a Monday. He left that Thursday. I didn't discourage him. I'd done the same thing at the same age. Like him, I'd notified my mother that I was leaving home just four days before I actually did. My
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