We are sitting at a gate at ATL, waiting for our flight to Lauderdale. Friday, we got all the paperwork completed. We also tackled the F-150 truck bed-load of things we brought to Lowndesboro from TDC. There is deep poignancy in that process. My girl, like her daddy, is a pack rat. It’s the oddest little things that trace the paths of her life. We got it all down to three medium and one small box of things that were shipped Friday and will get to BARC on Tuesday. Yesterday there were some sweet goodbyes with new friends. I packed for us. Early this morning we drove away from the farm, through thick fog, headed to Atlanta. After napping for a while, Maria looked at me and said, “you know Mom, this is my journey”. I don’t pretend to know exactly what that means but I do know that more and more, I am able to see how Maria inhabits her own life.
This time around, it feels like taking my daughter to the college of her choice–such pride, admiration and gratitude for her ability to go on her journey. I have all the information I need to arrange for her to fly back here on her own once a quarter and before too long, she’s going to be a pro.
We parked my car in the “economy” parking lot and each of us took a bag and headed towards the terminal. Just inside, I felt her slip her hand in mine as we walked towards the ticketing area. It wasn’t for long. Just enough to reaffirm all that is good about life.