At the cabin, after the barbeque. Kids want to chill and Handsome One (my husband) and I are up for a walk.

It's dark out. Pine trees disappear into the night. Yellow squares of light peek out of houses tucked away from the road. We walk down the slope, around the curves, keeping to the left like good pedestrians.

Our lungs inhale clean air that the lake seems to purify somehow. There are no sounds but our voices and the crunching of the gravel beneath our feet. I walk quickly to warm my body in the cool night air. At 6'4", Handsome One just increases his stride slightly to keep pace.

We talk about life, family the future. We murmur our hopes and fears, words drifting away in the higher elevation. Juniper and ponderosa absorb our spoken thoughts along with the CO2, recycling them back to us as life breath.

Our thoughts, opinions, and ideas are in sync more often than not and I relax into the comfortable feeling of easiness. Eighteen years will bend any couple toward each other, if they let it. I am at peace and I am thankful.

Cars come around the bend now and then, bright lights cutting through the night like knives. I close my eyes and reach for his hand, trusting he will keep me safe until I open them again.

When I pass her room and see the boxes piled up my heart hurts. When I step into her empty closet my gut wrenches. When I lay on her bed and smell her scent I lose it. Darling Daughter is leaving for Oregon on Labor day. The enormity and finality of it is washing over me like a tidal wave and threatening to sweep me out into oblivion. Why didn't I paint toenails with her more often, take her to lunch, shop when she wanted to? I always thought there'd be more time for that, but my heart hammers as I realize time's up.

I am not a helicopter parent. I do not hover. I am excited for my daughter to be independent and well-adjusted. I just love her so much.

She was a freshman at community college this past year and we saw so many changes. She was beginning to emerge from the teenage egocentricity (emerge, mind you, not free of). She learned to take responsibility for herself, especially with her schooling and finances. The enormous relief to a parent that comes from the end of nagging is indescribable. We were able to start a new chapter in life. One where she became a dear sister to Wee One, a friend to me and a source of pride to her dad.

We only got to enjoy one year of it. Husband and I agree that it would have been much easier if she had left shortly after high school. Mother nature produces those strains through the adolescent years for a reason. It's a way to begin the eventual separation. We were always close, but the drama was really hard to endure. Tensions were high, but they've disappeared significantly since then.

I could list a thousand little things I will miss with her gone. But I'm trying not to be selfish and concerned only with what I'm losing. I'm trying to be excited for her new adventure. I haven't cried in front of her yet, I don't want her to feel more homesick. I already made husband cry, though. It will be tough for all of us.

I'm making a herculean effort to hold it together. I know all of our good times together are not over. We can still paint toenails, go out to lunch and shop when we visit. I'm going to enjoy watching her spread her wings and start this new phase of life, and treasure the parts I get to yet share with her.