She just left. I mean, she actually did it. For real. Fa just got in her cute little car and buzzed off to college. So I guess it's true after all. She grew up.
Right before she left, she and Beatrice and Spuddy Buddy piled up in my bed with me and we all held hands and everybody took turns praying for her -- for all sorts of things for her, and thanking God for all sorts of things about her and about the fantastic years we've had learning together here at home, and also for all the blessings He has in store for her in the years to come.
It was our way of releasing the dove.
And then Beatrice and I pestered her silly about whether she had pencils and notebooks and lunch money and sunglasses and bottled water and a spare bandaid and her little purse Bible and sunscreen and her cellphone and gas in the tank and an umbrella (so there's not a cloud in the sky, but still)...
And then she was gone.
Now, okay, I know she'll be back around 5:30. I know this. But still, there are moments in life when you know you're standing on a hinge, and as soon as it swings open to the next thing, life will never again be quite like it was -- time yet again for re-invention of reality. This morning was a hinge moment for us.
Today, I am more glad than ever that we homeschooled Miss Fa. She walked out that door this morning with her feet planted solidly on God's earth, and her spirit rooted firmly in His Heaven. She knows what's what and why and how. I was given the gift of 18 years of my life to pour everything I had -- everything God gave me -- into her. I know I didn't do everything as well as I could have. Daily I think of some thing or some book I wish we still had time to cover... but the time is past, and we must be content with it. And what a gift that time was. And what better way did I have to spend those 18 years?
Hallelujah... and a big heavy sigh. For mothers, the two sometimes go hand in hand. And we wouldn't have it any other way. Endings are always beginnings... which reminds me of one of my favorite Fa poems.
Oh goodness, she didn't take a sweater and I bet those classrooms are freez..... okay, I'll stop.
No, I won't. Ever.