transitions

Well. That was quite the summer. And now we are moving solidly into fall - at least, in the mountains we are - and I have the sense that there was just enough heat, hugs, and movement squeezed into the past two months to hold me for the coming winter.

My "hundred days" project is long over. I'm not sure what I'll continue to write about here. There is still heartache, and hornets buzzing at the door. There is a line in a book I am reading that brought tears to my eyes:

"With a bar of green soap, Jules stood at the sink and washed her face, then managed to locate her toothbrush and toothpaste from the piece of red Samsonite luggage her mother had bought her as a going-away present."

(Meg Wolitzer, The Interestings)

It isn't one of the more striking sentences in the book so far, except that it brought up such a response in me where others did not.

Mothers giving their daughters luggage, as mine did, and her mother before that.

Going-away.

I have been going away for a long time, now. I am finally looking forward to coming back.