So, it’s down to this. Empty suitcase, empty Kleenex, empty nest. But how can empty be the right word, when I’m so filled with emotion? My husband Ed and I are back home now after delivering our “baby” to college–more than 1700 miles away. Chicago may feel distant, but her brother is even farther, having left just this week to study abroad in Nottingham, England. I haven’t checked the exact miles, but it’s eight hours ahead of us, so he’ll often be sleeping while we’re awake and vice versa.
In the back of an upstairs closet, under a layer of dust and some old clothes, I uncovered a box I hadn’t seen in years. Inside were some stray photographs from my college days and a few outdated documents. What caught my eye, though, were some letters a dear friend had sent to me. Holding them in my hands brought a flood of memories. I’d been away at school when I got them, on the precipice of the big unknown that was my future.
All these years later, I opened one to a date in the right hand corner: 10-3-79. My friend and I, born in 1960, would have been sophomores in college and 19—19! Continue reading →