"What will you do when both kids are gone?"

[meaning, gone to college...]

My usual answer to that is a blank stare and then, "We'll have fun!"

Of course, it is more complicated than that. Isn't everything?

Thinking of moving Rose to college (Hannah gets moved to A&M the week before) gets different reactions at different times.

The funny thing is that those sudden realizations always surprise me.

For instance, talking with Tom's brother and sister-in-law on Saturday, they mentioned that no one ever wants to go on a vacation in October. This was in reference to getting people together to share a beach house in Galveston next year.

I thought, "Well, of course, because of school." Then like a jolt of electricity going through me, I realized that we actually could go somewhere in October if we wanted!

Not that we will have the freedom from work and certainly not the money, what with two kids in school. But we could. We are no longer tied down by the school year in that way.

So that was a glorious moment of freedom beckoning.

On the other hand, this morning I stopped at the grocery store on the way to work. Loading up on freezer bags, Glad wrap, and aluminum foil, I had an impulse to grab a couple of packages of brown paper lunch bags. You know, so Rose would have them for school lunches.

Then it hit me. I don't need to buy those any more. It was a strange feeling to stand looking at those paper bags and be fighting back a few tears. (In fact, it is crazy that I am typing this and fighting some tears right now.)

So the moments of future possibility are balanced by the price to be paid in missing loved ones.

Which is why it is very important for me to live in the here and now. My imagination is altogether too good at taking over ... I have to keep it on a short rein.