She is gone, again.

I don't need to recount for you how gut-wrenching it was to take my daughter to college, drop her off, and leave. I cried the entire three-hour trip home. Little did we know--in August '05--that I would be enrolling at the same college in one year in order to attend law school. But, even though we were attending the same school, we chose not to live together. She had her life on campus in the residence hall; I secured a nice apartment close to campus, and we were both happy with that arrangement until....the entire story is just too long and boring to tell, but the synopsis is this: life became so unbearable in the dorm during the fall semester of her sophomore year that she was ready to move out and move anywhere. The logical solution was that she should move into my apartment until she had time to think about other options. So, between final exams and Christmas break, my daughter joined me, the dog, and the cat in our cozy little home.

Over time we all grew accustomed to living with one another again. We developed our work and school routines. We collaborated on shopping lists and cooking meals. We would occasionally indulge in a movie and popcorn. We would paint each other's toe nails. We'd freely advise one another about whether "those shoes really match that outfit." And we'd gripe about who took out the trash last and why "I" always have to take out the trash. We'd grumble and nag when the house got too messy, and we'd prefer deep conversation to deep cleaning.

Life wasn't perfect, but it was nice. It was nice to come home to another human being. It was nice to know that someone else could pick up my slack. It was nice to have someone to depend on, and it was nice to feel needed by someone as well.

Tonight, in the silence of this apartment, I'm pondering how nice it really was. Last weekend I helped my daughter move into her new place. She and some friends are renting a townhome. It is close by; just a few miles up the road. Nevertheless, she is gone, again. She came back just long enough for me to grow accustomed to her being her, and then she is gone again.

I know that it is truly best for her to be living with girls her own age and with girls who share her interest. And I will enjoy having a quiet house to come home to when the fall semester gets underway. But, today, I'm just trying to get accustomed to the quiet house and the fact that she is gone, again.