Remember that scene from Fiddler on the Roof where Tevya's eldest daughter gets married and he and Golda sing about how quickly she went from being their little girl to a grown woman? I'm experiencing a little of that myself these days. I've been furiously (and I mean furiously) rushing around trying to finish all manner of projects and assignments before my husband and I head out tomorrow to Atlanta, Georgia. My sweet,little girl who's now 5'10" and 18 years old is headed to Emory University. I'm not going to sugar coat it. I will be crying. I've already cried. I know that this is great and she's starting her own life and isn't it wonderful that she has this opportunity. I've got all that. But people, it's weird and unsettling and I don't think you realize just how weird and unsettling it is until you're right there on the threshold of your child leaving home. She's always lived with us. She's always been a kid. Now...well not so much.
I'm coping with it the way I cope with everything. Partly I avoid thinking about it until it's smack dab in my face and by making stuff.
To that end I dyed and patterned several lengths of fabric for closet curtains for my girl and her roommate. I planned a knitting project that I hope to complete during the car ride because, I may be a little sad, but there's no way I'm going to waste 30 perfectly good hours of uninterrupted knitting time. And I finished a mini quilt to donate to the silent auction at my synagogue this Sunday evening.
I won't be at the silent auction because I'll still be on my way back from Atlanta, but hopefully this little quilt will find a good home.
I'll be back next week with more hand dyed, homemade goodness and at least one extra room in my house.