It was August of 2005 when I wrote this post.
Since then my life has flown by me at a rate faster than a hummingbird’s wings in flight.
Labor Day weekend I’ll be moving in not one, but two daughters into college.
This will be Sarah’s senior year while Jenna will be a freshman.
Both of them are excited for a variety of reasons, though there’s a slight bit of trepidation on Jenna’s part, with butterflies of the unknown creating havoc on her nerves.
Sarah has been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt (and the socks, and the sweatpants, and the coffee mugs, and the baseball hats).
It’s a year she’s worked incredibly hard to get to and it’s one that will undoubtedly be emotional when it comes to an end. Pamela and I consider most of her friends extended family.
For Jenna, this is new territory. I can tell she’s excited though as she watches her pile of stuff growing in the living room next to Bob.
My life is once again undergoing a significant change as the “soundtrack” of our house changes.
There’s nothing I’m trying to figure out here and no tears to wipe (yet) but I wanted to put a timestamp on this time in my life.
Even if I could slow it down, I probably wouldn’t.
That would be like locking the door on two precious lives thirsting for self-discovery, knowledge and ultimately their independent happiness.
I could never do that.
Maybe I just wanted to write how much I already miss the both of them.
The kitchen door just won’t be opening and closing as much.
Laundry will be lighter.
Dirty water bottles in the sink will be virtually non-existent.
The two thousand pairs of sneakers and sandals that now litter the first floor will be rendered invisible.
I want to think that life will get simpler but it won’t.
And that’s okay because I know in my heart that they’ll be okay.
And I’ll use the bathroom whenever I want to.
Anyway you look at it, I’m going to miss them.
As I always do.
I figure it won’t be long until I write a post that starts,
“It was August of 2008 when I wrote this . . . ”
In the meantime, life will go on,
and our old backdoor will remain forever open . . .