Saturday, August 11, 2012
We're Leaving in Three Days, But I Don't Think We're Ready
Oh my, it's overwhelming. Both of us are so distraught that we've become useless. She cries, I cry. It's breaking my heart. I don't know if I'll have the strength to leave her in Utah and drive home alone. I want her here with me. I want her home. I want her to be 3 again. 5. 10. 13. 15. (She was so great at every age.) Any age but 18 years, one month, and one day.
Today Lyndsay went to Target and bought the remaining items on her registry. She received so much help in the form of cash, giftcards, and gifts, for which we are both so incredibly grateful. She is pretty much on her own financially, but she's well-prepared. And while it was so fun to purchase all of these new, pretty things for her very own space, it is also really hard for both of us. She is such a homesick girl when she's away, and she and I are tied at the heart.
But now, somehow we have to pack all this stuff up and make it possible for her to transport it without a huge entourage. When I drop her off for her Honors class, she will be in a temporary dorm and though I will stay for a few days, I have to drive back home before she will be able to move into her assigned dorm. So, we'll have to figure out a way to store all of her things for those days and then a way for her to get them all to her new home. No, her new dorm. Her home is here with me.
Though each dorm room (of 2 girls) has a sink and mirror, the showers are shared with the whole floor, so it was recommended that the girls have a shower caddy. Here's Lyndsay's:
She's got everything from razors, to face wash and moisturizer, to flossers, to shower gel, to toothpaste and mouthwash, and deoderant. Of course, shampoo and conditioner too. She can just tote this to and from the shower. I did buy her extra bathroom supplies so she won't have to worry about that.
And here's her little medicine chest, should she have a need:
I hope we covered every base. She's taking vitamins and apple cider vinegar too.
I sat on her bed and cried a bit tonight. I can't believe that in a week I'll be back home, having done the deed, and this room will be clean and empty of my girl and her STUFF. Of course I know that this is the only way it can be. For her growth, for mine. I'm so lucky to have her and to have the relationship with her that I do. She is such a source of comfort and strength to me, and has become such a dear companion. Life is about to change, and it will never be the same again. I'm not ready to think that it will be better somehow. I just wish I could freeze time.
On the wall of Lyndsay's room is a print I bought for her years ago when she was about 7. It reminds me that this stage of life is part of the plan. If you can't read it, it says, "I know the plans I have for you. . . plans to give you hope and a future. --Jeremiah 29:11"
My plan for her, her Heavenly Father's plan for her. Beyond this pain, I know her future is bright. And I know she will always love coming home.