I made it across the Pacific Ocean without dying in a fiery crash. A miracle, every time. Greg insists it’s the physics of aerodynamics, and I believe him, but only mostly. You know; like, I believe him, but only with my head and with logic. Not with my heart. You’ll never convince me there isn’t also fairy dust involved in air travel. Or a whole host off angels rolling their eyes as they hoist yet another tin can full of reckless humans on their backs and take them where they’re bid, grumbling all the while at the Lord Most High, “Oh, my GOD. If you would just LET THEM ALL TUMBLE INTO THE SEA FOR ONE DAY ONLY, they wouldn’t pull stupid crap like this EVER AGAIN.” But no. Nope. God keeps letting us do what’s crazy.
I made it. All the way here to Hawaii where my kid is finishing up her first year of college. We dropped her off 8 months ago, taught her how to use the bus, and bought Every Single Thing at Target and Bed, Bath and Beyond. I spent 300% of my budget, I told her she didn’t have to stay, and that college was overrated, and that I was pretty sure she ought to give up on her dreams and move back home with her mommy FOREVER, because who doesn’t want that?? She said no, and told me I was going to be OK. She said I’d be fine, and I could do this, and I knew she was right, but I cried on the way home, anyway.
Now here we are, only a few months later. Hardly any time at all, but this time this is Her Place, and now, for the first time, I’m the visitor in a world she’s created for herself. She took me to her favorite beach and let me play Twinsies in the water with her, where we take pics of our stunning dance prowess and have people try to guess who’s who. She took me to her favorite restaurant with her friends — the one that’s open ’til 2am with the vegan peanut butter shakes and the cartoons playing from a projector onto the concrete wall. And, in the grand tradition of college students everywhere, she let me buy her groceries, but then she said thank you, because she knows now that food costs money, and money has to be earned, and that, while we’re glad to give it, it’s still a gift worth acknowledgement and gratitude.
Eight months is all.
A blink, really, and she’s grown.
Which we knew would happen, but only mostly. In our heads and with logic, you know? Because it’s part of the physics of becoming.
So of course she’s grown. It’s inevitable. But you’ll also never convince me there isn’t fairy dust involved in helping her fly.
Sending love, friends,