As my daughter prepares to go away to Arizona, my emotions are soaring as if she were in my belly all over again…The pride, the happiness… the need to vomit.
In just a few weeks she will be a graduate of our local community college. Within a few weeks after that she will be in a new state, in a new home, in a new job and in a new school.
I wanted her to remain local. With the mindset; you have a great home and a great job here. Why not take advantage of what exists?
But my girl is determined for adventure.
Last month, to prepare for her upcoming change, she took a week long vacation to Arizona (where she will be going to school).
She had 7 days to secure an apartment, find a job, tour her new campus and register for all of her classes.
Within the first three days of her trip all missions were accomplished.
A dream two-bed/two-bath, in a safe community that includes parking, pool, and tennis courts for $750 per month.
A job as the head of marketing for a chic boutique toy store in Scottsdale making the same income she was making in a similar position she has here in New York. She described the store as “exactly the kind of store” that she wants to own.
She also registered for all of her classes of choice, in what she called “the most magnificent campus” she has ever seen.
Long car rides alone seem to bring it all to the surface for me. Any song from the 90’s reminds me of when she was a little girl. How on her first day of school it was raining. How when she grew to just the right height, she would constantly hit her head on the parked car mirrors. “How many times did I have to tell her to watch where she was going.”
Graduating from her current community college is already a milestone in our Latino family.
Last night as I was driving home, Kleenex in hand, stinging from the double edge sword “she doesn’t need me anymore”…Just then, a phone call…it’s my daughter…She is crying.
You should know, anytime my child calls me up crying, I assume it’s a car accident. I am always calm because I am just happy that she is safe enough to make a phone call.
It was a car accident, but she was not involved directly. She just witnessed a terrible accident. A woman was hit by a car. A hit and run. The woman was thrown from the opposite side of the street to land directly in front of my daughter’s car. My daughter–a witness, waiting to be questioned. It would be hours before the crime scene investigators arrive to take pictures. My daughters best friend was in the car with her, so she wasn’t alone…But she called me…because… she just wanted me to come over… just to be there for her.
The pride, the happiness, the angst.