In the marathon of The Upbringing, we rarely say "This is the moment I'll model as my Most Perfect Happiest State of Being."
We build up that model anyway. Unconsciously cherry-picking the good moments and forgetting the greater subcontext of the challenge of molding and cohabiting.
As loving parents, it's hard not for this to be the Peak State of Our Being. Our EMOTIONAL STANDARD.
It's kind of ridiculous for this depth of love - a depth we can only feel for our children - to be the standard by which all is judged, but we seem stuck with it.
Launching our birds and seeing them fly will always present that sweet-melancholy (sweetancholy) duality: pride in seeing them fly and wistfulness for seeing them fly away.
While the dailyness is unlikely to return (nor the remembrance of what a grind it was), we will all have moments again in our Most Perfect Happiest State of Being. And because we're now hyper-aware of the preciousness of the moments, we feel the new moments far more fully than we ever did the "routine" ones. We will feel the deepest joys again.
Yesterday, a couple weeks into perhaps his last full summer with us, Dash was looking for a guitar-to-amp cable. I, of course, rushed around the house to find one. He plugged in for the first time in years.
Sounds of him bending strings to "Hotel California" reverbed around the house. Playing undisturbed; as the amp washed over the sound of Leigh and me in the other room.
Dancing in Joy.
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Parents with incoming Mustangs, keep the faith. You will feel whole again. And you'll reach a joyous peace (just not right away 
).
We as "Fully Emotionally Complete Adults" (wink) have a hard time with this transition. One of the hardest parts for us it this Lessening of our "importance". In addition to this amazing broadening of their horizons, your child does have a deep need to assert their independence. The horizons are forever, but the intentional distancing is temporary.
After a hard push away as a Freshman, which we respected, our son is "cool" with us, in a way he's never been. And he's grown, like so damned much.
You'll always miss the idyllic version of the day-to-day; but you'll get a different flavor of joy that's just as rich.
You got this. Lean on this group. We got you!