Growing Pains

I think I know the one thing worse than dropping my daughter off at college: Dropping her back after Christmas vacation.

I did so this past weekend.

Let me get to the point: It’s not getting any easier. For me, at least. My daughter? She’s having the time of her life. And you could tell the moment we entered her dorm.

Friends dashed in and out of the room to hug her. She dashed in and out of their rooms to hug them. Lots of hugging going on.

Yours truly was left to haul boxes and unpack them. I still can’t tell you where I put all that stuff. It’s safe to say my daughter will never find any of it -- I'm a stuffer, with stuff.

But enough of that stuff. Some things I could do, like setting up her computer and all. But for her, that’s about all she wanted, or needed out of me.

I was struck by how this shy kid in high school had become such a socialite in college. That’s great for her.

But again, back to me and my long, lonely, quiet drive home. Remembering when I was the center of her universe. Now I’m just part of her universe and a crowded universe at that.

Just like that I’ve gone from “take me to the park,” to “take a number.”

I should be happy, right? Well, I’m not. So there.

Maybe I’ll stop up next weekend. Valentine's Day isn’t too far off? Groundhog Day?

I know, I know ...

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