I knew I was in trouble when my three kids, each at different times, pulled me aside and pleaded, “Mom, whatever you do, DON’T watch Toy Story 3!” Knowing how fiercely protective they are of my emotions, I took their advice to heart. I managed to avoid it—until the last of them left for college.
Now, my family is no stranger to grief. We’ve lost beloved family members far too soon, in ways that still take my breath away if I think about them too long. Without oversharing, I’ll just say that those experiences pushed me to pursue a master’s in grief counseling. I wanted to help my young family cope, and, as it turns out, I’ve worn my “grief counselor” hat as often as my “educator” one in my work as an educational consultant.
So, when my youngest packed up and headed off to college, I finally gave in. I figured, if I ended up sobbing uncontrollably, at least I’d be alone and could ugly-cry in peace. Oh, how I underestimated the emotional wallop of Toy Story 3.
Spoiler alert: Andy goes away to college and gives away his treasured toys—Woody, Buzz, the whole gang. Even typing that sentence makes my eyes well up. And if Randy Newman’s “When She Loved Me” starts playing? Forget it. I have to stop everything I’m doing and just let the tears fall.
You might be wondering why I’m sharing this. The reason is simple: When kids leave for boarding school or college, parents often experience a very real grieving process. It’s like an annoying mosquito—always there, buzzing around, demanding to be dealt with.
Grief isn’t just about death or divorce. It can sneak up on you during any major life change, including when your children leave home. Suddenly, the daily routines and roles that defined your family life shift dramatically. Your emotions get tossed into a blender—pride, excitement, sadness—and sometimes sadness is the strongest flavor. You miss their presence, their laughter, even their messes. You mourn the end of an era.
This process can look a lot like the classic stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. As parents, we have to adjust to a new identity and a new parenting role. Crying and feeling overwhelmed? Totally normal. When our nest was finally empty, my husband and I coped by eating out every night for two weeks. Eventually, our waistlines (and our wallets) reminded us that this wasn’t a forever solution.
And let’s not forget the kids. They’re not immune to this emotional rollercoaster. Sure, they’re excited about independence and new adventures, but they’re also nervous and anxious about the unknown. If they have close friends, they might grieve the changes in those relationships, the end of high school routines, and the loss of the familiar as they step into a new world.
Life is hard—every adult knows this. It’s especially tough to watch your child go through a big transition, all while you’re wrestling with your own feelings about it. There’s no hiding in a corner to process your grief; you’re still the parent, and your child’s needs come first.
Eventually, though, you and your child will both find your “new normal.” Growth and change are inevitable, but they’re also empowering. That first parents’ weekend, when you see your child—changed, more independent, with stories you haven’t heard and experiences you didn’t share—you’ll feel a surge of pride. You helped them get there. That pride, like Andy’s when he shares his toys with Bonnie, is as fulfilling as it gets.
So, wipe away those tears, and maybe hold off on Toy Story 3 until after they leave. When you do watch it, let yourself have that cathartic sobfest. You’ve earned it. You did your job, and you did it well!
