Where do I start?
We've begun yet another school year, and Fall is on its way. It's easily my favorite season, and yet...there's that panic. And it's so familiar that I'm almost used to it, 10 years later, but it still hurts.
When I made the decision to homeschool Ella, it never crossed my mind that I would be dissecting every assignment years later, wondering how her older sister would handle it.
And this year, more than any other year, I'm feeling it. That wondering. The what-if's? It's this quiet panic, bubbling up inside me when I'm alone or planning a lesson or simply when I have too much time to think...which blessedly isn't that much.
One morning this week, before everyone else woke up, I sat on my porch swing and stared out at the mountains. The mountains, you guys. Ella has grown up in these mountains for the past 5 years and her big sister has never seen them. Ouch.
And now the leaves are starting to change and it's really freaking me out. I don't know why. I lost her in May, when everything was green and blooming and gorgeous. And every year, the Fall hits me hard. Maybe it's because everything is dying.
I miss her a lot. I miss her more than a lot in the Fall. Sometimes, on quiet night like this, I want to run away and go up North and cry at the cemetery. I want to write her name a hundred million times, but mostly, I think I'd just like to know what life would be like with two little girls: one ten, and one nine.