This was the week of her departure. After months and months, nearly a year actually, of planning and preparation, my daughter boarded a plane on Monday morning and headed for the Czech Republic. It was exciting to see her go. I will miss her greatly. I already do. Yet this was her dream. Her goal and aspiration. And seeing our children reach their goals is what parenting is all about. For the most part anyway.
So I tearfully said good-bye. Then watched her get on United flight something or other. Then watched the plane taxi down the runway. Then waited for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only about ten minutes until the plane took off down the runway, headed for Chicago. I finally decided I better head to work, so I did. Tearfully.
My kind work friends brought me flowers, provided lunch, baked me a coffee cake. And were available to hear my laments.
Two days later, I am still sad she’s gone. Yet I’m joyful for her. Her reports to me indicate she’s doing well. Likes her host family. Likes her new home. Feels welcomed. Her late arriving baggage finally arrived. She met with her fellow Rotarians. She’s taking the necessary steps to get adjusted.
Meanwhile for me, it continues to be a week of…..
A week of dealing with reality.
Divorce. Adjustments. An empty nest.
A week of things not going as planned.
A rained out baseball game. Unexpected meetings. People pleased with my work. People disappointed.
A week of comments and opinions and questions.
For years and years I’ve been a lover of summer. Sunshine and warmth. Long days and outside time. But now, this year, I long for fall. And I long for winter. I long for cold and change. I long to wear the Doc Marten boots I found at Goodwill and drink hot tea on my porch. I long for a different week. Not this one.
For now, today, it’s hot. It’s thunderstorms and August temperatures. Grass growing too tall and air conditioning. It’s a week of late summer. The beginning of change. But just barely. Mums are for sale. But it seems way too early. Football games are being played but they seem premature. So I await.
I await another week. The week of…….I’m not really sure what. A chill in the air. An abrupt change. News that’s encouraging. Maybe just a regular, uneventful seven days. I’m ready for it. Of that I’m confident.