The anticipatory grief of college move-in day

In my first year as a college chaplain, I walked onto campus on new student move-in day and immediately felt it. It was hard to name, but it buzzed through the air. It swirled around conversations. It hummed like an air conditioner in the background of every classroom.

A mix of excitement and nerves — “it” was anticipatory grief. 

Anticipation can take many forms: anxiety, trepidation, fear, loss, hope, excitement, adventure, newness. It can be positively intoxicating or completely paralyzing. And with the new students and their parents, every facet of it comes to college move-in day. 

Move-in day is both the culmination of hard work and the precipice of something big. It is a flurry of activity. In the milliseconds between orientation sessions, parent luncheons, unpacking, quick runs to Target, meeting professors, and ice cream socials, anticipation in all its forms looms large. 

At the heart of so much of it is anticipatory grief. As a chaplain, I see it in the quiet moments when parents think their kids aren’t looking at them. Their faces sink as they look around and realize, “Our kid is staying here … without us.” For students, it  is there in a frenzy: “Where are my classes? What if my roommate hates me?” Those questions are anxious questions, certainly, but underneath them is anticipatory grief, too. 

As a chaplain, may I suggest we acknowledge all of the anticipation? 

“I’m so excited!” “I’m so worried!” “I can’t wait!” are all anticipatory. But often “I'm kind of sad…” gets lost in the excitement. But it matters. A lot. 

Anticipatory grief does better out in the open. We can all feel it anyway. And parents, telling your kids that you’re sad (in measured ways) is not a “downer.” It tells them you love them. And it gives them permission to feel a little sad, too. 

Maybe as a chaplain I just have an eye for this sort of thing, but move-in day is the moment. The moment parents look at their kids and say, “Wow, this is it. You’re in a new phase of life, and I trust you with it.” It has gravity. It is the inflection point. The moment of overlap between college life and home life. The day your parents meet your roommates and the day you all eat in the cafeteria together. 

There is nothing better than to watch parents meet that moment, acknowledge they are sad to leave their kids, and then leave them — exactly where they’re supposed to be — anyway. It is such an act of bravery and vulnerability. 

In the days and weeks after move-in day, especially for parents, the anticipation fades but the grief lingers. 

A Prayer for the Lingering Grief After Move-In Day

Loving God,
You know the ache in our hearts.
The house feels too quiet,
the chair at the table sits empty,
and our arms remember that last hug in the dorm room.

We give You thanks for the gift of our child—
for the laughter, the noise, the presence
that has filled our days and years.
And we entrust them again to You,
believing You go with them into every classroom,
every dorm room, every late-night conversation.

Still, Lord, our grief lingers.
Meet us here in the stillness.
Gather our tears as prayer,
and remind us that letting go
is also an act of love.

In the name of Jesus, who never leaves us,
Amen.