Leaving On A Jet Plane. . .

I dread this time of the year. The last few days before Daughter #2 returns to college. . .2,694 miles and another coast away. Everything speeds up as Daughter #2, Husband, and I discover more things we forgot to buy/return/resize/appear at/modify/fix or file before she leaves.

We’re running out of time, and I’m getting sad because in 2 & ½ days, I’ll be reduced to smelling her scent on her bedsheets after she’s left. I know, I know, this is what young adults are meant to do-- grow up and be independent. And Daughter #2 has done a great job. She was born, raised, and educated in the Southwest with 365 days of sunshine, yet she lives and goes to school in Boston competing against hordes of East Coast educated students from private schools, and trudging through Nor'easter storms. And she excels. It’s time for her to leave, but I’m really going to miss her.

The frequent visits to Walgreens, Daughter #2's favorite drug store, have been multiplying at a frightening rate as she keeps remembering “one more thing” she needs to get that apparently doesn’t exist in Boston. I should probably explain at this point that when she leaves, her car stays here. In Boston, it’s either hoof it by foot, take the “T” train, or call Boyfriend for a ride. So, I can’t blame her for stocking up. Until the Mastercard bill comes.

But back to being sad. This is the fourth end-of-summer-and-back-to-college time, and she’s never been done packing until the last minute. The various piles have been all over the house for a week, and it’s both comforting and depressing because it will all be gone Monday morning. . .along with her.

We’re going out for a Momma/Daughter breakfast this morning. Just the two of us. Husband’s turn is Saturday. On Sunday, Daughter #1 will join us in looking sad. And on Monday morning, after Daughter #2 has left, Daughter #1 will call from work to console me and tell me, “I’m still here and I only live 2 minutes away!” We’ll track Daughter #2's plane online until it lands, and come home from work to our once again empty nest. It’s going to be strange for a while.