Grief is defined as deep sorrow.
My oldest, my rainbow baby, left for the military in 2022. I did not speak to him, see him, text him, for nearly a year due to training demands. I grieved for months. It wasn't that I didn't want him to be independent and have adventures. I did. But I missed him and was desolate that he was so far from me. (and he's still nearly 12,000 km away).
Grief and bereavement often coexist, but they're not necessarily the same thing. I was desolate because I missed my son. I was grieving the loss of the relationship we'd had. I was fearful for the future. There were many emotions all tangled up, and I was an emotional wreck.
I admit that I sometimes got a little prickly at mothers who told me they understood because they'd sent their own child off to university. At the time, I thought there was no way they could understand what I'd experienced. I didn't realize that accepting their feelings at face value wouldn't make mine less valid.
Letting go is the ultimate goal. But it's not always as easy to do as we'd imagine.
For what it's worth, a year after my oldest joined the military, my second went to university, and a year after that, my youngest joined him. My nest is well and truly empty, and I've adjusted. I still miss my kids like crazy sometimes and would love to have them all under my wings again, but they're embracing everything life offers. Yes, the transition can be brutal, but there's often joy on the other side. Hang in there.