August comes in like a lion, like no August before.
In July, during the high holy heat days of summer, an epiphany explained the odd fermata of the recent months -- the long, lingering wait. I've spent most of this summer in a sort of slumped expectancy, knowing that August would bring that fateful trip in which my daughter moves across the country to begin college (and also, in essence, her adult life).
I'm simultaneously excited for her and forlorn that she'll live hundreds of miles away. I've the complex intertwining of happiness for her big step and sadness that it means, on some level, she's moved on from being my little girl and progressed into being her own woman.
I've been dreading being apart from her.
I know this is the order of things. I know it is an inevitable moment and an occasion for all the appropriately positive emotions surrounding exciting beginnings. But, when something begins, it usually signals that something else has ended.
No comments:
Post a Comment