I won’t cry today………………
when I follow that little white car through I-20 remembering that she sometimes needs help remembering how to get to Wal-Mart.
when we roll our eyes at Wayne as he fusses about how none of this is going to fit in her room and we need to leave half of it.
when I remind her about writing down all her debit card transactions and not to loan people money.
when I negotiate how many text a day is OK for me to send and what crosses the line into excess.
when I think about the cost of one year of public college tuition.
when I realize that this changes everything. She will come back home, but it will never be the same.
when she smiles and says “Mama, I’m gonna be fine.”
when I hug her one last time in front of Downs Hall and head to the big white truck.
But when I get inside, and Wayne gives my hand a squeeze, and we pull through the gate of West Georgia and head home, I’m gonna cry. For a good thirty minutes I’m gonna cry. Don’t tell me she’ll be fine, and don’t try to tell me not to worry. I am leaving my baby and I have held it inside all day. I WILL cry then and no one can stop me.