Today was Alexandra’s last day of High school. All that stuff about “where does the time go?” and “How can she be this big?” Yep, I’m totally feelin’ that.
She’s so beautiful and I’m so proud to be her mom.
We listened to Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen.
I remembered that same good cry with my mom on the way from Iron Mountain to Marquette, only we were listening to Rod Stuart’s Forever Young. Same cry, different song.
She’s going to miss her teachers.
They were the kind of teachers they make movies about and I suppose she’s the kind of kid that makes them keep on teaching.
We went Chinese, a tradition we’ve upheld since her first “last day of school” in Kindergarten.
Her fortune was Engrish. As always, that’s so funny you learn how much rice hurts coming out of your nose.
We opened gifts that will be perfect in her dorm.
Now, she’s gone to Detroit for the weekend and we are both trying to practice that feeling of her in Detroit and me here.
We are practicing Detachment.
Do you think Zen monks weep?
We sure do.
I read an article from Erma Bombeck which likens our children to kites. We let out more and more twine until they fly away on their own. I guess that’s true in a way, but I don’t expect we will ever really, fully let go and here’s why:
As I reach my hand out from Alex, the hand of the Lord is what I grab. As she lets go of mine, she’s in her own way and time, doing the very same thing. So then, even when we have to step back, even way back that we don’t touch even finger-tips, maybe can’t even sense the nearness of the other, we will sense His closeness and I’m betting that will be enough.
it always is.