final phase or new begining

Ok, first things first. I'm not a writer. I don't pretend to be a writer. I have no grand illusions as to my writing ability. On the other hand, my daughter is a wonderful writer. She has the gift of gab despite her refusal to kiss the blarney stone. Where she inherited this ability is a question for the ages. It was not from her MOTHER. That said, I'll give it my best shot (and hope she never stumbles across my pitiful efforts).

Since every blog should have a purpose or theme, what, might you ask, is the purpose of this blog? Let me put the suspense to rest. I will attempt to chronicle the final phase of my life. Not that I am terminally ill or anything. Hell, I'm in excellent health to the best of my knowledge. What I mean by "final phase" is this: The last of my children has left home. I can hear you all now. "That's no big deal, it happens all the time." Well let me tell you, it is a big deal to me. It is a huge deal. I packed my son up yesterday, drove him to his new apartment and left him there. I drove all the way home with a huge lump in my throat. No that's not exactly right, more like a huge lump in my heart. I know this is best for him but it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. I have deepest sympathy for the mama bird who pushes her young from the nest. I hope my little bird learns to soar.