By Her View From Home 
The cap and gown are hanging in the hall, and suddenly, everything feels like a “last.”
The last packed lunch. The last practice. The last time you watch them pull out of the driveway knowing they’ll be home for dinner.
Everyone says to be proud. To soak it all in. And you are.
But if you’re honest?
You’re heartbroken too.
Because this isn’t just their ending—it’s yours. It’s the end of the everyday closeness you held for so long. The routines. The chaos. The knowing they’re just down the hall.
It’s slipping through your fingers.
It’s a strange kind of joy . . . watching them grow into everything you hoped, while wishing you could slow down time.
But the ache means it mattered.
The tears mean it was real.
And feeling it all means you’ve loved them well.
To the mom of an almost graduate, know that whatever you feel today, you’re not alone.
This is exactly how it’s supposed to feel.
by Heather Spiva 
by Cheryl Donely 
by Savannah Lyon 
