You never know...

I was inspired to write this post after reading Cousin J's post today about her children's first day of kindergarten.  It all went so well, for the children, for the parents and, I guess, for the grandmother.  She didn't say how the grandmother did, but I'm guessing it was okay for her, too.

I commented to her that I was going to write a post about my experience dropping my first born, Wendy, off at school and driving away.  So, here goes...

I was really ready for Wendy to be out of the house.  Now, I know that sounds bad.  I don't really mean it to be negative, but you know how kids can just get on your last nerve sometime.  Wendy and I could never seem to find a meeting of the minds.  No matter what I said, she would have a point of disagreement.  In other words, it seemed to me that if I said something was black she would immediately argue that it was white.  Thank goodness, I don't thing she remembers it that way, however, so that's a good thing.

She was ready to go to school, too.  She was probably tired of not having anyone as smart as she was to talk to around the house.

The day came and we got all her things together, ready to give her the chance to spread her wings.  Once at school, we helped her get her things put away and then it was time for us to go.  I honestly thought it was going to be easy; I certainly never thought I would get emotional about it.  Well, you never know...

When she walked us back to our car and gave us a hug, I could barely keep from bursting into tears.  We pulled away from the curb and she went back into her apartment at College Station, about to begin her freshman year at Texas A & M.

You might think I'm just trying to be funny.  I'm not, this time.  The truth is, I think that was one of the hardest good-byes I've ever had to say.  I still get choked up thinking about it.