Fledgling

I don't, as a rule, wax poetic or melodramatic here. Usually I come, I say a few things, and I move on...

Today is different. Today my youngest child begins college. It's only one class, and it's only for two weeks. But after this the fall semester begins and all of us change permanently and, I hope, for the better.

You have to understand, this is my baby. This is the final chapter, the last to move on. There's been three before her, all boys, and all off and gone and doing their own things now for better and for worse depending on the boy in question. This is completely different. She's the only girl. She's the best kid I know. She's one of my best friends. I have always maintained the line that divides mother from daughter. We never let it blur. She knows I'm in charge, I'm the mom, but she also knows - I hope she knows - she can tell me anything, and I am always here for her, no matter what. And I am less in charge.

So there she stands, in her pedal pushers and t-shirt, with her Cool New Bag over her shoulder, and I see this incredible young woman and it staggers me. I don't remember rearing this. I remember mistakes. I remember being too hard, unyielding and controlling. I wanted this, this incredible person who just amazes me every day. I have to admit that it's more than I hoped for.

But on the inside, way down inside of me....I still see this...