two thousand three hundred eighty-one miles

I DIDN’T GO WITH HER to the airport this time, an action easily justified with the cruel and early departure time. I did wake up, however, before the clock clicked over to our agreed-upon 4 am rise and shine. She wanted to shower; I wanted to be upstairs to check–for the  ten thousandth time–that she had everything she needed for the long journey ahead.

It’s what we do as parents, right? Worry, and plan, and counsel, and cajole. 

You’ll want some room in this suitcase to bring new things back.
Let’s get a strategy for what to do when you feel lonely.
Here’s my friend’s number. You can call her anytime, no matter what you need.

We’re so proud of their courage, but so worried for their safety. And happiness.  And their comfort, for heaven’s sake.

That portable charger. Carry it in your purse. Is it in your purse?

“Yes, Mom,” she said. Over and over and over again. “Yes.”

And then we hugged, and waved goodbye, and just like that,

she was gone.

 

a sweet travel journal from her friends

 

 

I’d love to send a little note when there’s a new post. Just leave your email here!

 

 

3 thoughts on “two thousand three hundred eighty-one miles

Comments are closed.