Growing up

I didn’t do her laundry this time.
Until she went away to college, I hadn’t done her laundry in years, but for some reason that simple chore became my lifeline of sorts, the way I stayed okay with the fact that she was packing up and moving on with life, a life out of my house, out of my control, out of my sphere.
I’ll always be her mother, but everything has changed.
So for the first move in August, and the next for the Hurricane Gustav evacuation and the next for the Hurricane Ike evacuation and the next for Thanksgiving, I’ve done her laundry.
But this time I didn’t.
I want to. I want to do it all: the laundry, gas the car, pack…but it’s time to stop. She needs me to stop.
I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

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One response to “Growing up

  1. HUGS!!!!! I’m the same way with the boy’s lunch. I hate the chore, but it’s the only thing he really lets me do for him, so I’ll do it as long as I can. Next year….no more!

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