I’m not just saying this to be sappy and melodramatic but I honestly do not know what life with Aidan Isabella Zielske in college looks like. Factually, I am in the dark.
I don’t know what it feels like.
I don’t know what is smells like; what it sounds like.
So when I think about how I’m going to do it, I go a little blank.
Part of me thinks this is a good thing. Why good? Well, it means I’m not living in the future and neurotically creating scenarios that have zero basis in reality. I’m not inventing drama that doesn’t exist. You can thank my therapist for that small victory.
But as I write this, she will have moved out in less than a month. Less than a month. This fact tends to make me a little emotional.
I’ll let you in on a secret I’m just now keying into: whether you’re 18 years away from this day or just under 30 days, it is no less unfathomable. When you’ve got toddlers at your feet, the last thing you’re thinking of most days is, “Wait! Some day you won’t live here anymore?” At least not in a nostalgic way.
At least I sure didn’t think that. I was more concerned with, “For the love of ALL THING HOLY, will you ever sleep through the effing night?”
Now I’m the one who doesn’t sleep through the night.
Now I’m the one who’s staying put.
I don’t how how I’m going to do it but I do know how I will approach it.
I will see what shakes out.
I will make sure this transition is all about my amazing girl and getting her set up and ready to roll.
I will respond to the days as they come.
I may have ideas about what the next few months will look like. But this is her story. This is her adventure. This is her life.
I will not make this about me.
(And yes, you can thank my therapist for that last little nugget, too.)