In less than a month, A will be leaving for school. He’s eagerly counting the days, even signing up for a pre-orientation program that will get him to school a full week before the standard reporting time. I guess my phone has been listening to our conversations, spying graduation caps in my pictures, pulling together ideas from my Amazon purchases, and has been flooding my social media feeds with a ton of “dorm must haves” and “what to do now that your child has gone to college” stories.

Even though it’s been over 30 years since I moved into a dorm for the first time, I feel like there isn’t a whole lot that has changed. I had a bed, a desk and a closet. While my dorm didn’t have Wi-Fi and the internet was still new, I did have an email address and took a laptop to school with me. Those are the basics, right?

Wrong. The number of “essentials” that your student needs for their dorm rooms ranges between 63 and 108 things. I know, I’ve read them all. Call me crazy, but “essential” and “108” don’t belong in the same sentence.

Most of these lists start out with sensible items, like shower caddies, hangars and extra-long sheets. Knowing that extra-long sheets are not always readily accessible, and that there would be a run on them the closer we got to school, and trying to take advantage of Memorial Day or Fourth of July sales, I sent A several links to sheets, asking him to make a choice.

I did join a few “dorm mama” type Facebook groups, hoping to pick up a few hacks or must haves. That was a big mistake. The single biggest complaint among the mamas? Boys who didn’t care enough about the décor of their dorm rooms, and the comments ranged from “how do I get them to care?” to “I’ve designed my son’s dorm room.” I showed A some of these and suggested to him that if he didn’t want me to go that route, he’d better get to decision making about which sheets he wanted.

Back to the suggested essential lists, including the one provided by his school: clothing for all seasons. Ah, the joy of the New England weather, as well as living closer to the coast. He is in for a real treat. Other than making sure he’s got rain gear and a parka packed, I’m not going to spoil that one for him.

One of the biggest changes A is going to have to adapt to is not having a school uniform anymore. One weekend I told him we needed to go shopping for jeans. “But I have a pair,” he said. It was a little funny to see the light come on when he realized that he was going to be free to wear whatever he wanted, every single day.

He informed me that he still thought he would prefer to wear his button-down shirts. I told him that would probably only last until all the ironed shirts I sent with him ran out, and then he’d feel differently. He told me that he would just iron them himself. After I recovered from laughing so hard, I explained to him that although he knows how to iron, and I have no doubt he could iron them himself, that once he was at school, that would slide down his priority list quickly. Also, on the essential list: a steamer. Also, on the list of most recommended and least used items: a steamer.

Then, things started veering into the ridiculous. As well as coordinating décor of all types, one of the lists suggested a rolling bar cart and accessories! What? In what world is that a thing that dorm rooms needed? Besides the fact that most dorm residents are not of the drinking age, this thing takes up a lot of square footage. A little further down this list was an adorable retro-style mini-fridge … that sold for $1,200. I don’t think so. We’ll either be getting the $99 fridge at one of the big box stores or renting the combination microwave/fridge since it’s the only option for a microwave in the room. In this day and age, anything that he desperately needs or wants, or forgets, can easily be packed up and shipped to him, or ordered direct shipment online. I’m not really spending a lot of time obsessing over this list of essentials anymore.

Which leaves the other category of clickbait, the “empty nest” type articles that seem to keep smacking me in the face. I’ve read a few and found them decidedly unhelpful. For one thing, my nest still has two kids, two dogs, two cats and a bunch of chickens in it. I would be foolish to pine away for my one flown bird when I still have so many that need tending. Another article suggested I give myself “time to grieve.” I was about two sentences into that one when I decided that advice was exceptionally unhelpful.

Our family has spent so much time grieving for a situation that can’t be remedied with a phone call, or a quick weekend trip, or the knowledge that we will have holidays and breaks together. Not that I take those times for granted, I know that the reality is, he will very quickly have other priorities and goals that may interrupt that schedule. It is also next to impossible to grieve for someone who is fulfilling his lifelong dream and moving forward from unimaginable tragedy. It can only be celebrated, not grieved.

What is essential is knowing that he will always have a place to call home and knowing that all of us here are supporting him, no matter where he goes. It is essential not that he has the right sheets, the right garbage can, the right desk lamp, but that he opens his mind and his heart to his education and not just the one that happens in the classroom. It is essential that he knows that all the experiences he’s had up to this point have prepared him well for this next step, and regardless of the challenges, he has been well equipped to face them.

As for the rest of it, I’m sure he’ll figure it out as he goes.

Liz Pinkey writes a column on Saturdays in the Times News