Sitting on the airplane with my eyes closed tight, trying not to cry and failing miserably. Tears are streaming down my face. I feel untethered. Floating without a purpose. What I have spent nearly 18 years fighting for has finally happened, and I don't know what to do next. My one-and-only baby boy moved into his college dorm, ready to start his new life. Mission accomplished - we figured out how to support his learning differences and got him through high school. And, despite my bursting pride and feelings of accomplishment, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’m also feeling a little lost. I am ridiculously proud of him and his readiness to start this next chapter of his life. But alas, now I have to figure out mine.  I know I’m not alone in this feeling; my Facebook feed is full of well-wishers who have been through it and people in my position preparing to drop off. There are many blogs telling parents why we feel this way and how to cope. It’s not that I won’t have things to