Last night was a big night at Poggio. Beautiful teenagers glowed with the accomplishment of high school graduation and their parents reflected back the love we all have for our children, especially us moms. It is a sweet moment, and yet, underneath the joy is the realization that something is ending.
I have a new job. I had an Akashic Records Reading and the Lady (my name and capitalization, I mean what do you call her?) The Reader, told me that the Masters liked the new direction my life was taking, but I needed to get out of the house at night. She suggested I get a job as a hostess at an upscale restaurant.
As I showed happy families to their tables I was transported back to my first Goodbye Year, and Page’s Redwood High School graduation. Probably, because I lean towards the dark side, often slipping into the depressing abyss that is motherhood, by Page’s graduation I had already been marinating in this-is-all-coming-to-an-end brine since August. Good God, we love them so much!
I was recognized as an author. Holy Cow, that was so nice. And my reader, a lovely local psychiatrist, and I connected as mothers. Sharing the emotions like an advanced female species, like Diana Troi.
The Goodbye Year 