Tomorrow my youngest daughter, Lucy, leaves for Paris. She's prepared, I'm prepared. But she's been on the edge of crying for an hour or two now, and I'm on my second scotch this half hour.
I've noticed that as I get older, I settle for the memory of stuff, as if that way I don't have to do whatever it is again. Travel around the world, for instance (I got home 25 years ago to become a creative writing student--see "longer bio" at my website) or go downhill skiing (that would be about 30 years ago at Sunshine--so fantastic an experience, why would I ever need to repeat it?).