Well, we did it. We sent our first child away to college.

I shared news of the event with an old friend who asked, “How’s the homesickness?”

I replied, “Oh, my wife and I are doing OK, I suppose.”

It wasn’t the answer he expected, nor we, but I meant it. What I felt was similar to the homesickness I’ve experienced, but with a twist: a longing for home the way it was before our daughter left.

It’s easier to leave than be left behind, but our daughter has also felt homesick, which my wife and I don’t quite know how to handle. We don’t want our child to feel sad — every parent feels their child’s pain — but we also want to be missed.

In the weeks leading up to her departure, we busied ourselves to the point of distraction, not preparing well enough for the magnitude of the change. When did it really sink in? While scribbling a routine shopping list, we simultaneously realized we wouldn’t be buying our daughter’s favorite breakfast cereal. Whammo. Emotions leap up when you least expect them.

In the weeks since her departure, we’ve come to appreciate the miracles of our information age. Texting — teenagers’ alternative to conversation — is amazing for establishing an instant connection, however brief. Skype changes everything with its combination of audio and video. Back in the 1980s, AT&T encouraged the country to “Reach Out and Touch Someone” with a long-distance call. No one then could imagine the emotional impact of laying eyes on your loved one — fuzzy computer image or not. But that has its own pitfalls, as she becomes distracted by each new and exciting friend passing by her dorm room.

Still, we’re lucky. Our oldest has always been a willing talker, even with her parents. As for her younger siblings, who knows? Another friend, whose son just flew the nest, agonized out loud, “He’s not much of a communicator, and radio silence is hell, not knowing what’s happening!”

I found some reassurance for my friend and the rest of us in the book “You’re On Your Own (But I’m Here If You Need Me),” by Marjorie Savage. She writes about the typical phases, including fractured communications, as kids get swept up in the college adventure. Sure, they will find greater independence, but they also continue to rely on those back home. The author’s message: Fear not these phases; none are harbingers of lasting separation.

As if to prove the point, our daughter asked us the other day for a wake-up call so she wouldn’t miss class.

But let’s not fool ourselves. These remnants of the child’s life at home will move into the past; they must. Our job is to help our children become adults.

To any parent who struggles with a child leaving, I offer these words of encouragement from an old friend whose youngest child moved away years ago: “Your daughter’s mind is opening up with things she’ll want to share with you, maybe not every day, but frequently enough. Best of all, those conversations will carry meaning and emotional weight far greater than a parent’s exchanges with a younger child. Your relationship isn’t shrinking; it’s expanding and growing stronger, and that has nothing to do with geographic distance.”