The car turned a corner at the end of the row of buildings and was gone out of sight. Corrina Williams waited until she was sure it wasn't coming back, and then she turned and went back inside.

For so many years, she had dreamed of Brian's first day of college. She and the girls would pile into the car with him; they would all drive down together, laughing and joking all the way. She would inspect his room, and meet his roommate, and help him put his things away, and then she and the girls would take him to lunch, someplace nice, and celebrate his leaving as a family, before driving home without him.

This call, this miracle, had come out of the blue, with so little time—she couldn't plan ahead, couldn't take the girls out of school or call out of work, and Brian's friends had offered to take him. She wanted him to have those last moments, that night with the rest of the Panthers who had been his support all this time. But she missed the drive that was to have been, so filled with joy and triumph.

She and the girls would drive down this weekend, bringing with them whatever things he needed, and she would do all of it then—meet his roommate and see his room and take him out to eat and see his first college game. Maybe he wouldn't be starting, but he'd be there, where she had worked so hard all these years to get him. It wouldn't be exactly like she'd dreamed, but it would be enough.

At the top of the stairs, she looked into his room, the bed neatly made up for once. She tried to think of all there was to be done, the packing and the sorting and the laundry, duties she was happy to attend to for her boy one last time. But all she could see was how empty it was without him. This was the night—her baby boy was going to college. She and he—they had done it together, gotten him there, after all the troubles and the heartaches and the setbacks and the hard work. Why wasn't she happy?

Because she missed him. Gone just a few minutes, and already her heart ached for a sight of that smile, for his loving arms wrapped around her. It was the moment every parent had to get ready for, to let go of their cherished child and send him off into the world, to stand on his own two feet. And Brian had two good legs, ready to take him as far as they could. He was a son to be proud of, a fine man who would make his mark on the world.

What he wasn't, anymore, was her little boy, hers to protect and chasten and teach and bring to the ways of the Lord, and Corrina Williams had not prepared herself enough for the emptiness that would be left behind. Not anywhere near enough. She wasn't even sure it was possible to have prepared herself enough.

She knelt down next to that too-neat bed and folded her hands.

"Lord Jesus, he's in Your hands now. You know him—he's a good boy, with a good heart, but too apt to show off, too willing to make a hasty decision without thinking it through. Show him Your path, Jesus. Let him walk it upright and honorably, like a man. Let him make us both proud. Fold your loving arms around him the way I would if he was still here. Help me to know that he is where You have put him, to remember that his way lies in a different direction now and to cherish the way he is going, not to repine and wish him back here with me, no matter how much I might miss him. Give him the strength and courage to keep going. Give me the strength and courage to let him. In Jesus' name, Amen."

Standing up, she thought maybe she felt better. After all, he was never far from his Lord's arms, even if he was far from hers. She could take comfort in a man well raised, a man who was worthy of all her pride and all her joy.

She closed the door to his room behind her—time enough to start packing up tomorrow—and went to the door of the girls' room, opening it quietly so as not to disturb them. Both of them were already asleep, and Corrina stood and watched them for a long time, listening to their soft, even breathing. With Brian launched on his way, it was time for her to turn all her focus onto these girls. He had helped—he had watched over them and protected them and led them as best he could for so young a man. But this was her ongoing task, her duty, to raise these two children into fine, strong women who could stand on their own. Noannie had her studies—she was making good grades. Time to start looking into academic scholarships, see what was out there for a smart girl who wanted to go places. And Sheila was taking dance lessons, getting better at it every day. Maybe they needed to find a way to get her some more. Because one way or another, Corrina Williams was going to see each of her children go to college and get a good education. She was going to give them the best shot at life anywhere they wanted to go that she could.

Someday, she would stand here and look at these two empty beds, listen to the echoing silence of her home, and long for them back even as she was uplifted with her love for them and her dreams for their future. But for tonight, she still had two souls left in her care, and she was going to do the best by them that she could.