The Drop off

This would be the last night we’d spend, as a family, for several months. And my heart was quietly breaking. Intellectually, I knew I’d see her again during her fall break, but not saying goodnight to her, every night, was almost unfathomable to think about. I’ll go to bed Tuesday night and she won’t be there. I’ll go to the farmer’s market at the weekend and she won’t be with me—we won’t have our weekly dim sum appointment. My Project Runway buddy won’t be around. The family shorthand will be interrupted. The three of us have the best time together, and now 1/3 of the laughter in our home will be gone.

This is a death.