Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Poof: They're Gone

While Annie was playing at a friend's house today, Jemma and I walked to the grocery store.  On the way there, we passed a house and I noticed a car in the driveway, its back tailgate open, full of bins of books, duffel bags, boxes, and a pillow.  Wow, I thought, someone is bringing a ton of books on their family vacation, and then I realized, no, it was probably a teenager getting ready to head off to college for the fall.

On our way back from the store, we passed the house again, and this time as we approached it, I could see the family of four, whom I have never met, standing in a tight circle in their front yard, arms around one another's shoulders, heads bent in the middle.  I have never met them before, and I couldn't hear what they were doing - talking, praying, not making any sound at all - but I am quite sure that I witnessed the very moment a family sent their oldest child off to college.

I was glad to have sunglasses on, because I immediately started crying.  I am crying, actually, right now, just thinking about it again.

Then we came home and made cake-pops-disastrously-turned-into-cake-balls and rocked a block party full of water balloons and fire trucks and dear friends, which is the only remedy I know for those tears.

1 comment:

  1. I feel like the older I get, the more I identify with the crying mom who walked out of Dykstra cluster 1-4 with my dad's arm around her shoulders. (Of course, back then I was just overjoyed to no longer have an 11:00 curfew.)