The nice thing about a cliche is that you don't have to reach for it. It imposes itself into your thoughts uninvited, like a toddler in fuzzy yellow footy pajamas who crawls into your bed after a bad dream about a monkey and then falls asleep pink-cheeked and warm and so sweet you can't bear to carry her back to her own bed even though you know you should ... and well, my point is, where did the years go?
Also, it must be said: It seems like only yesterday.
I've been around this bend and down this road and I've crossed this bridge before. It's the best of all possible outcomes. But oh god, can it really be time to start picking out dorm rooms again? She's only 18. I'm not finished yet!
While it has been a while since she has recognized my expertise in anything, I know I have still have many so-called words of wisdom to pass on. Or at least words.
In fact, now that I think of all of my various areas of near-expertise, it would take decades to pass on even a fraction of it. There must be so many things left to teach her! If I just had more time!
But time, as they say - Oh christ! Have they said everything already?
She was up for anything. From eating worms, or cicadas, or just all of the croutons out of my salad, the girl had appetite. She was a climber, an adventurer, a girl who couldn't say no. She tested me constantly. She kept score. She had my number. And now she was going off to college. With my number. Also my passwords.
- Summer 2016