Leaving home

At the fun and wild age of 17, I couldn't wait to do anything but leave home. I can remember counting down the days of high school left and having as much fun as possible that summer. Reminiscing just now, I remember being so ready to launch out of my family and create my own life. I felt so stifled and restricted. 

Tonight, as I was laying with Briseida as she fell asleep, she asked me how many more years of school she had. Inquisitively I asked "Why?".  She proceeded to tell me that she liked school, but how much longer until she got to college. So I counted the years on my fingers, a practice I'm pretty sure Mr. Johnston and Mr. McVay, my 2nd grade teachers would not approve of, and I came up with 12 years. Briseida started crying. Now, my precious little girl is a bit dramatic, so her crying doesn't always work on me. So a few minutes of crying and hugging go by. In one last final attempt to figure out what's going on, I wipe her tears, look her in the eyes and rub her nose with mine. "I don't want to ever leave you and you said when I go to college, I'm going to leave to go to school!" Briseida sobs. My heart has never felt so full. :)