Driving up to the family cemetery, walking and talking about the people buried there and how they are related to my girls.
Friday night half time shows; watching my older girls dance and lead the band while trying to keep tabs on their little sister in the stands.
|hyped up on concession stand food|
|in the woods, we stopped to play|
I am loading up the family and heading East. I am both excited and terrified at once. I am excited about a new place, about being close to my parents, about a new beginning. I am terrified of failure.
My biggest fears lie with my girls. Shocker, I know. My youngest has just started fifth grade. That age where you cement your friendship with your best gal pals. That age when your core confidence sets in stone to rely on later in life when your environment is less than ideal. She has a very large support system here, a very large cheering section. Teachers, teachers aides, girl scout leaders, my co-workers, they all believe her to be quite extraordinary. They all know her name.
My two oldest girls have been going away to school for the past 2-3 years, but they always had a place to come home during the summertime, winter break, various weekends. Now I am pulling up home base. My head tells me they are 22 and 20, it's time for them to fly on their own. My heart tells me I am pulling the net out from under them.
I am excited and terrified.