Another reminder of the dizzying speed with which this world is spinning, with which the years are flying by.
Three years ago I wrote that I love right now more than I have any other moment of my life. And that is still true. I still love right now more than any other moment. That fact is heartening, yes, but it’s also bittersweet: the years with Grace and Whit at home grow shorter, the shadows behind us lengthen. I feel the same way about that indelible fact as I do about looking into their echoingly empty rooms: it’s like pushing on a bruise. I can’t avoid the reminders of this life’s breathtaking beauty or its keen sorrow, nor the ineluctable drumbeat sound of time’s passage.
The truth is it was a difficult drop off. There were some tears, which had also filled the days leading up to the 21st. I wasn’t entirely prepared for these tears, this anxiety, this fear. My children are getting older, camp is a familiar, joyful place – where was this uncertainty and clinginess coming from? Maybe it’s just about age and stage, as I’ve described before, a last gasp of attachment before the children (the teenager in particular) push off for the other shore for good.
It was a difficult morning, last Thursday. I left even though I was being begged not to. As we drove down the Cape, I was sad, confused, reminded yet again that the minute I think I have understood this life – her sixth summer, his fourth, we’ve got this! – I’m shown that in fact the only constant is change.
What I do know is that her cabin – Courageous – is well-named. I know that she and Whit (who, in case you’re wondering, despite some challenges last summer, bounded into his cabin and shooed us out before his bed was even made) are in excellent hands. I know they will flourish. I know that even if there is some homesickness, the opportunity to face our difficulties and triumph is one not to be squandered. We watched Grace do it last fall with cross-country, and I’m confident she will again. In fact maybe the point is this discomfort; without some sorrow and some tears, we wouldn’t be maximizing this summer opportunity. Maybe. I am not sure. I know I miss my little soul mate, and her entertaining brother around whom everyday is a celebration. I miss them, but this is the right thing for them. So, courageous all, we forge head, separated by miles but connected by the raveling red yarn that ties our hearts.
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