tumbledry

End of the Act

The strangest thing about your only sibling moving out of the house for good is the empty bed. Honestly, there is simply an empty frame standing where her bed used to be. The emptiness in that piece of furniture seems to mirror the one in our home. From the moment I woke up the household seemed emptier. Strange how you can tell when someone is gone and not returning. Strange how you immediately begin to recall the “good ol’ days” when men were men, life was simpler, and Dairy Queen was the logical conclusion to a summer’s day.

I’m proud of Katy. She has a bright future in higher mathematics. The respect she has gained from the many professors at St. Thomas is sure to continue during her graduate tenure at the University of Minnesota. I also envy her; with her life on track and her future ready to be lived, her life seems much more stable than my own. I sometimes wonder if I am pursuing the right degree. In fact, I wonder it everyday. It is both encouraging and thought-provoking to see her with a house of cards neatly built up, as I struggle to shuffle my own deck.

Life is a lot like a game. What with the random strokes of luck, the split-second spur-of-the-moment decisions, and the ever-changing rules, it’s impossible to know if you are winning, or about to be kicked out by the ref. I guess those who succeed recognize this and understand there are only so many things they can control, or change. Time to strive for this.

If you will all permit one more metaphor: wishing you good luck and fair sailing on the sea of life, Katy.

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