The beginning of Summer.

And just like that, it's over.

That's the shocking thing, really. On Monday, I was stressed, trying to imagine how report cards, literary journal and more were all going to get done in the appropriate amount of time. I was thinking about my long weekend and what that was going to look like. I was thinking about how excited I was for SAI to come, about the addition of a seventh to the wedding party, and about how it seemed like the world would end when the babies left.

And just like that, it was over.

We hugged and cried on Friday, but I tried to remain composed. It was sadder and harder than I thought it was going to be, but I came to the realization that it was necessary. It would not be good for them to hold on to me forever; to grow, they must let go. It was more painful, this time, than last year. Last year, they cried and I carried the secret that I would move forward with them. No such secret here, however. One of the tiny ones gave a speech, talking about what I had done for her. It was too much to even cry; it makes me realize that this is the only thing that I can do. That I want to do.

And just like that, something new begins.

So, I start looking to planning and to Israel. I start looking to next year and how things might look different. I start thinking about those first day jitters and how strange it will be to have to know new names. How my babies are no longer babies. How they will date and hold hands and peck on the cheek. And how I will begin again, reminding people where homework goes and to put their hands down when other people are talking.

SAI was in town this weekend for alumni weekend. I saw extended family at a graduation party. There was much to do and see. I introduced C as my fiance. Things continue to move too quickly or not quickly enough. In the end, they continue moving. It was wonderful to see SAI, to get to speak and be in the same place for the first time in to long of a time. It says something that I was more focused on talking to her than taking pictures of her. To me, that's strange. And perhaps lovely.

I cannot wait to read books. And revel in the fact, finally, that this is my house.