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Home alone Eat like slobs? Yes. Walk around the house naked? Sure. Swear like sailors? Of course! After tearfully bidding good-bye to their college-bound kids, Ann Leary and her husband discovered that the empty-nest syndrome was, well, for the birds. Photograph by Cavan Images
AUGUST 2016
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W H E N W E DR O P P E D our oldest child, Jack, at college for the first time, we were all very cheery while we unloaded the car. My husband, Denis; our daughter, Devin; and I helped Jack carry his stuff up to his dorm room. We marveled at the closet space and groaned at the thinness of the mattress. Eventually we found ourselves looking around the room with forced smiles. “Is that everything?” Denis and I said, over and over again. “Maybe we left something in the car. That can’t be everything.” We had arrived at the moment we had dreaded, not just all summer but for the past 18 years. It was time to say good-bye to our son’s childhood. “What about your winter jacket? What about your soap?” I cried. “I feel like
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