“We are all so ruined, so loved, and in charge of so little.” Anne Lamott
Our daughter Maggie is getting married in 46 days.
When she got engaged in November many people asked with concern in their voices “How are you doing?”
“Great!” I responded. “Austin (her fiancé) is terrific and I’m excited for them!”
And then, last week, driving down highway 100 at 4:00 in the afternoon, thinking of the possibility that Maggie and Austin may move to California (you know, like, at the opposite end of the world, and a continent away from daughter Katy), I found myself sobbing and thinking “I’m NOT ok! I’m losing my baby! I’m losing my family! I’m losing my identity! I hate change!”
I. Am. Out. Of. Control.
Yes, I was a tad over-dramatic, but give me my moment.
Everything feels like it’s slipping, slipping, slipping out of my hands, out of my control, like the gooey “gak” I used to make with the kids when they were little.
Change. Loss. New beginnings.
I’m not the only one. I have young friends who are graduating, some going back to school, and others who are moving, some taking big new risks. My sister-in-law after much prayer, just resigned from a job she’s loved for years.
