Fly Fly Away

Today I'm taking my youngest to fly home to Texas.  We must drive 3 hours to ensure that at 12 she doesn't have to change plans on her own.  Wow.  My baby is 12.  I am torn between this momentous feeling of excitement for her future and one of sound guilt that somehow I should feel as the other mothers do and fall to my knees in weeps and wails.... OH my baby!  It's not as if I'm not motherly  - I do love her and comparatively I think I've done a pretty good job raising my kids.  Not perfect - but above average I'd say.  But my lack of panic at my future empty nest worries me.  Am I some sort of robot?  I love the kids but I honestly can't wait until they are happy living their own lives off in college.  Am I expecting some big journey or excitement then?  I can't really think of any.  I am anticipating having my space as my own again.  No smelly teenage bodies, chip bags and book bags on the floors.  Hmmm I envision my house quiet - with Jayde and I burning candles and listening to music while painting or writing - not talking, just enjoying each other's silence and presence in our new smaller - cozy home.  Even though I will miss them, worry a little even in the beginning, I think I can settle well enough into that empty nest.