• Last year at this time I was extremely depressed. This year, I'm only marginally better. I don't want to go on and on, but it's about my daughter. Last year, she started college and I started bellyaching.

    Last year, she was nervous. This year, she's excited.

    Last year, I was suicidal. This year, I’m just homicidal: there are boyfriend issues — I won't go on.

    Last year, she seemed anxious about leaving the nest. This year, she seems to be asking, "What nest"?

    Last year, I thought I was losing her. This year, I'm convinced that I have.

    Last year, she wondered if she could handle the workload. This year, she wants more of a workload.

    Last year, she seemed like my little girl, too little to be facing the cold, cruel world. This year, I seem like the one unable to face the cold, cruel world.

    Friends and family say I should be proud. And I am. I should be proud that she's spreading her wings and I should stop spreading tears.

    They're right. She's right. But she’s not "their" girl and she's not "this" parent.

    So allow this parent his annual lament. I’m proud of a daughter enjoying life independent of dad, but depressed precisely because she is.

    Then again, parents weekend is just 54 days, 2 hours and 57 minutes... from now.

    Watch Neil Cavuto weekdays at 4 p.m. ET on "Your World with Cavuto" and send your comments to cavuto@foxnews.com