Monday, August 15, 2005

My husband and I went on a mini-vacation to Ouray, Colorado, this weekend. We spent time hiking and driving and we also took time to talk about our goals as a family. We try to do this every year before we start school.

On our way home a small moving van drove by us on the highway; it was the kind used for moving a bedroom's worth of furniture. The driver was a man who appeared to be my husband's age and the passenger was his teenage son. It looked like they were moving the boy to college. In my imagination the father was filling his son's ears with all the words of wisdom and encouragement that he had forgotten to pass on over the years. The words that got lost among the soccer games, the birthday parties and the homework. I wonder if the dad felt that it had all gone by too fast.

As my hubby and I talked over the weekend, I realized that while we have grown in some areas, there are some important areas where the progress has only been a few feeble steps; we are still too far from the finish line. This is a defeating reality for me.

In one year the driver of the moving van could be my husband and the passenger, my daughter. Yet I feel so unprepared to let her go. There is so much more to talk about, to share and to dream about together.

This is the first time in my life that one year seems like an incredibly short period of time.