So It Begins...

What should be a happy occasion is laced with anxiety and a tinge of sadness. My intelligent little sister’s graduation should be a cause for celebration, for cheer. Instead it’s a 500 mile trip of white knuckles through the mountains, hoping my recently repaired car is truly repaired. 

As her father (Devon), my husband (Lawrence) and I travel to our destination, we muse over small things – the changing landscape, how big her class is, if we’ll meet her significant other and what (not if) her mother has in store to make this occasion less momentous than it is. It’s a bleak, but honest, view of what we know is inevitably in-store. I try to stave off tears, knowing after this there won't be any quick drives to see her at her father's during holiday visitation. Renee has stated her intent to continue living far from us, in order to remain among the community of friends she has finally been able to build for the first time in her life. I am proud of her and how she has grown, but I don't relish the thought of having to treat a visit as an actual vacation to have quality time together. And we're both miserable conversationalists on the phone. 

The day crawls from morning to lunch to late afternoon as we wind through the hills, occasionally stopping to fuel up and stretch our legs.

10 miles out, Devon calls Renee to let her know we are close. There is commotion in the background – the problems have already begun. Mother is making arrangements to meet anywhere but their home. And since Mother won't do anything that doesn't benefit her, we know something is up. Red flags raised, we make it a point of heading there straight away, instead of the proposed meet-up location.

Turning off the beaten country road, we begin inching down the gravel lane that provides access to the main road for a few homes and trailers set inside the field. An oncoming speck slowly grows larger and morphs into an old blue Mustang – Mother's car. The back windows are tinted, but I still can tell with a growing despair there are boxes in the back. Boxes for moving.

Moving 600 miles away merely two days after graduation, away from Renee’s friends and serious significant other of 2+ years. Friends that she has been fortunate to make in high school, after already being transferred through 4 previous schools. Moving away from the place I’ve seen her happiest.