Monday, September 7, 2015


I've decided that I am not a huge fan of change.  Which is odd for me - I used to be a person who moved at least every seven years - who looked forward to any variation in any part of life.  Not anymore. Not now.  I am having a horribly terribly awful time dealing with my daughters being away from home for college.  I feel as if someone has reached a hand into my chest and pulled out my heart.  I honestly feel as if I could die from being so heartbroken.  But instead of dwelling on my broken heart, I feel somewhat compelled to focus on all that is good.  Which is quite a bit.  I love this time of year - ironically, I love it because of the melancholy that is associated with the change in the seasons, with the return to school and warm clothing.  With the inevitable return to the middle of the night jaunts outside to the woodstove to fill up with wood.  

 There are a whole lot of things worse than sending my girls off to college.  I imagine that it would be heartbreaking to not have the opportunity to do so.  My heart would broken into more pieces than two if I had to tell them that I couldn't send them.  But still.  As a mother, I am allowed my fair number of pity parties.  And each time I have to return them to their schools, I will most surely host a pity party.  That's the way I am.  And when they graduate. And when they move on to graduate school.  And when they move away for that first real job.  I'll never get used to it.  I want more than anything to have all five of my kids home with me but I am pretty sure that would soon descend into its own special kind of hell.   Because what we want isn't really what is best.   

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