When I found out my daughter was beginning her first year of college with 42 credits I was pretty astounded. Between dual enrolled classes, and a slew of AP classes and exams, she worked her ass off. The whipped cream is she was granted an academic scholarship which will take care of most of her classes. The cherry on top is she'll be graduating with a degree in Spring 2013. And that's on a pretty light schedule. Although she was accepted in the Honors Program, she will not be able to achieve the highest award on her diploma, as there's not enough honor classes available to her with her schedule.
She also finally got someone to respond to a job application, and after a couple of interviews she was hired as a hostess at a popular "Italian" food chain. This will be in addition to her weekly Saturday cleaning gig at the lake. Although I am happy and proud of her achievements, I find I am also sad. I know it's selfish of me to feel this way, but I do.
Finishing school a year early means she will be leaving home a year earlier. Richmond is far from home. When she graduates, I suspect she'll move even further from home to New York City. I understand, but I'm still going to miss her. I'm still going to worry about her.
I have to keep telling myself she's not a little kid anymore. She and her friend looked like Thelma and Louise as they pulled away from the house. Headed on a vacation. Two girls driving down the freeway. I wished I could have fit in her suitcase. Bella didn't want her to go either. She climbed into the suitcase. When she got scooted out of it, and the suitcase was closed, she shit on top of it. Bella's not as subtle as I am.
I was a little concerned they didn't have a GPS system, Mapquest directions, or even a map, so I found one and right before they left I went over the route with them. I don't think they were paying attention. I was assured I shouldn't worry as they had directions. After they left the house, they called and asked, "Ummmm, how do we get to I-40?" Hmmmm. At last text message they've made it to I-40, hopefully going in the right direction.
This week will be good practice for me. Smaller doses of separation, before the inevitable one. I'm not ready to cut the strings, but I am ready to loosen them. Really, I have no choice.