I'm kind of feeling that way and yet not.

The kid took a plane to Anchorage, Alaska this morning to college. He won't be back until Christmas and then only for a month. I know in my heart, he will never really be back home the same way again.

This is the first time in over 30 years that there won't be any kids in our house. It's an odd feeling. There is this sense of freedom and yet also a lingering sadness.

Dropping him at the airport tore at my heart. Still, there was a second of intense pride as I watched this incredibly good looking, very confident and capable man stride into the airport and out of my life for at least a semester.

Before leaving he balked at my insistence that he call me between each leg of the flight. We compromised on text messages instead.

He's been old enough and responsible enough (most of the time) that we could leave home and not worry too much. Now, we won't know what he is doing or who he is doing it with for days on end. And, then only if he decides to send us a text message, email or (gasp) actually call us.

The house will be quiet without music thumping from down in the basement or in his bedroom. We can leave our bedroom door open at night or walk around in our skivvies and not worry about running into one of many kids who often spent the night.

I won't have to worry about keeping the guest bathroom cleaned up because his beautiful girlfriend, Kate, won't be here to use it.

Our house will be terribly quiet with no Kate and no friends. Already I'm looking forward to Christmas when he will return and the house filled with his friends.

Still, we can put out a dish of M & M's and know they will last more than 15 minutes. The coffee won't have to be brewed on "strong." I can have the futon back in the sitting room and regulate the thermostat to suit myself.

Gosh, I can go to the grocery store only once a month instead of twice a week. I know the bill will shrink by a large percent. My change will remain in my purse unless I decide to spend it.

There won't be any more arguments about staying out late or hanging with someone we don't approve of. No more worries about where he is and what he is doing because he thinks he is too old to have to report his whereabouts at all times.

There won't be philosophical discussions between the two of us. No more long drives in the country talking about life. Those days are over at least for awhile.

This is truly the milestone. He is on his own, thousands of miles from home and from mom and dad. The time has flown by so quickly. I want to reach out and stop it so I can have just a few moments longer to have him here close to me. But, time stops for no man (or mother).

He is so eager to start his life--his own life. It hurts a little to know that this being I carried for nine long months and spent 24 hours in labor for, held in my arms and rocked to sleep with colic, pneumonia and chronic ear infections--who cried for me when I left him on his first day of school, who always looked to make sure I was sitting on the sidelines of his many ballgames and who wrapped his arms around me when my mother died and just let me cry--is leaving me with only a hug and a happy wave of his hand.

My little man who I protected and loved with all my heart is not my little man anymore. He is his own person, with his own values, morals and ideas. I may not like them or agree with all of them but I respect them and him. I hope his college experience is all that he believes it will be and more.

This summer has been a tough one. He's 19 and chaffing at all rules and regulations at home. He believes he is grown up enough to make all decisions. His parents don't always know what they are talking about. We are so old you know and don't understand so much.

After about a half an hour political debate with him last weekend, we agreed to disagree. After he walked out of the room, my husband and I looked at each other and started laughing.

"Wow, remember when we were just like that?" we chuckled to each other. "He has a lot to learn yet," added my husband still smiling.

He later told me, "It is one of the miracles of life and nature that we love our children in spite of the fact that we may not like them all of the time."

I admit over the last summer especially, I have not always liked some of his behaviors but I have always, always loved him. And, now I have no say at all. I can only hope all the things we tried to teach him will stay with him. That he will be a kind and considerate human being.

I pray that God keeps him safe and warm and blesses him with happiness (and good grades).

And so, as my wonderful grown-up son flies off to expeditions in the last frontier. I think perhaps, my husband and I will plan a few adventures on our own--just the two of us--in a way we have never been before.

Still, I would gladly buy more M & M's if he were here to eat them.