Cross posting for Miss Becky!
Monday, October 16, 2006
It's still so hard.
Another goodbye to my daughter. She's in her third year of university, and it's still hard everytime she leaves.
The very first goodbye, the very first time we took her to school, and left her I was a wreck. I cried half the way home, and it's an eight hour drive. I was a mess for months, and ended up with the cleanest house on the block. I can look back now and laugh, but at the time I was heartbroken.
Since that first goodbye she's been and gone a dozen times. She's been home for the summers, for Christmas', for weekends here, weeks there, and each time the goodbye was a little easier.
Funny thing? It's so much more peaceful when she's at school. She's a noisy, demanding, messy, young lady. She fights with her brother, she teases her father; she's a bit hard to live with at times, although that's all changing, too, as she matures.
I look forward to her coming home, I'm so happy to see her smiling face, and then I'm always a little relieved when she leaves again, but that doesn't stop the pain of goodbye.
On the other hand, she's always thrilled to leave. There's only been one time in all the goodbyes when she was sad too, and it still breaks my heart to remember that. I've done my job, I've raised my daughter to leave. She's independant, capable of living on her own, and looking after herself. I can dust my hands off, and pat myself on the back.
And then tear up when she drives away.
It's still so hard.
Another goodbye to my daughter. She's in her third year of university, and it's still hard everytime she leaves.
The very first goodbye, the very first time we took her to school, and left her I was a wreck. I cried half the way home, and it's an eight hour drive. I was a mess for months, and ended up with the cleanest house on the block. I can look back now and laugh, but at the time I was heartbroken.
Since that first goodbye she's been and gone a dozen times. She's been home for the summers, for Christmas', for weekends here, weeks there, and each time the goodbye was a little easier.
Funny thing? It's so much more peaceful when she's at school. She's a noisy, demanding, messy, young lady. She fights with her brother, she teases her father; she's a bit hard to live with at times, although that's all changing, too, as she matures.
I look forward to her coming home, I'm so happy to see her smiling face, and then I'm always a little relieved when she leaves again, but that doesn't stop the pain of goodbye.
On the other hand, she's always thrilled to leave. There's only been one time in all the goodbyes when she was sad too, and it still breaks my heart to remember that. I've done my job, I've raised my daughter to leave. She's independant, capable of living on her own, and looking after herself. I can dust my hands off, and pat myself on the back.
And then tear up when she drives away.