Our daughter is moving out. She is moving out for years and the process has not ended. It is a piecemeal operation by a thousand cuts. Perhaps it is a friendly departure from childhood and her parents.
The bed, disassembled, is awaiting removal and another slice of her youth will be removed. We, the parents, have to let go. Just another cut.
Over the years the view from her window has changed. Where once we could see the escarpment in the distant there is now a wall of bushes. They form a peaceful, but at the same time restrictive and protective, wall.
Two of her trusted companions of her childhood are looking on and wonder when it will be their turn to leave home and join Caroline.
Perhaps never and they will be part of our new “Quiet Room” we want to establish here. No electronics, not even music 😦 , will be allowed. There are a couple of bookshelves with mainly books on history and novels. So we can immerse ourselves in the past. Isn’t that what old people do because they don’t understand the present.
The past, fearing the future and not understanding the present, becomes the last refuge for the elderly!
ps. The photos have been provided by Auntyuta