Last night we packed up Spice and hauled her to a friend’s house on the roadside to be cat-sat. The cabin and gardens are turned over to minders, and we’re headed for Canada in a car heavily laden with luggage, supplies, camping gear, and hopes. We are embarking on a family road trip to take Aly to college in Washington state. If all goes well, we will arrive early enough to visit relatives, attend orientation weekend, perhaps do a little shopping, then Michelle and I should arrive back home sometime around the autumnal equinox.
We’re taking a laptop along, but it’s unlikely we’ll blog much about the trip. Not to worry, though, if you’re a fan of this blog. I’ve scheduled posts in our absence, which I hope you’ll appreciate. If there’s anything exciting to share about the trip, you’ll most likely hear about that when we return.
I won’t say that I’m not experiencing my share of parental angst, taking Aly away to another state, almost 2000 road miles away. It’s not an easy thing to part with one’s only child, particularly when she’s a young woman of such promise. We will miss her terribly, there can be no doubt. And yet, there’s a certain sense of excitement, fulfillment—relief, even.
For the last 18 years, all Aly’s life, we’ve spoken of “Someday.” “Someday, Aly will go to college.” “Someday, we’ll split up the team in a serious way.” “Someday, you’ll go off on your own.” We’ve been talking about “Someday,” looking forward to it, dreading the possibility that we might not reach it.
Now, it’s here. This is where it begins, and we can’t wait to see what comes next.