Firstborn steadily packed all semester. In fact, she sent some things she wouldn't be needing, but wanted to keep, with her Papa in February. But, as you know, when you move, there are just a lot of little odds and ends when the end of packing nears.
She drove out to see her guy-friend one last time. (Incidentally, I'm immensely proud that she actually learned to drive on a stick-shift, cargo, diesel van in Turkey!) She's technically legal to drive in Turkey now, as the legal age is 18. We began to let her venture beyond back country roads into traffic.
She drove out to see her guy-friend one last time. (Incidentally, I'm immensely proud that she actually learned to drive on a stick-shift, cargo, diesel van in Turkey!) She's technically legal to drive in Turkey now, as the legal age is 18. We began to let her venture beyond back country roads into traffic.
She had worked and worked, but started to feel overwhelmed at the end. Would the items break in transport? How do I get it all in there? She'd been working for days, discovering new bedside table drawers that still needed sorting. I sent her on to hang with her friend, and told her to let me finish it. Fresh eyes and decisive packing to the rescue. I wrapped and taped and wedged. We got it all in.
It's a different situation than most kids. She's not just packing for college. She was packing her life. She had to decide which parts of her 18 years she could let go of and which ones she would want to pull out of a box years later to show her children.
I packed the diploma and transcripts in my carry on!
Finally, her last morning at home came. I knew exactly how I would find her. This is how I've found her for the last six years, ever since her little surprise baby brother learned how to crawl out of his bed during the night to get to her.
3AM came, we loaded up, drove to the airport, and began the journey.
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