Sweet A has moved to New York City. It's a good thing. A good idea. She has a great new job and a great new apartment in a wonderful neighborhood, close to friends and her sweetheart. It's all good.
So why do I feel so sad?
Lovely L hasn't lived at home for years and Sweet A spent four years in Colorado before coming home for just a couple years.
I think it's all about permanence. This is the real deal. My last fledgling has fledged, and the nest is feeling terribly, terribly quiet in a that'sthewayitisfromnowon kind of way. So no amount of rational thinking or mantras pronouncing that she is under four hours away by car, no happy thoughts about achieving her goals or the pride I feel in her accomplishments, none of this has anything at all to do with my emotional journey. I have to ride this one out and wait until it *feels* right, which it certainly does not yet. But it will. I know it will. Waiting is not my strength.
