It's too bad life doesn't have a speed regulator dial. There are times - like lately - when I feel like everything is moving much too fast, including myself. I just want to slow it down--or at least be the one who can control the pace.
As my daughter prepares to leave the States tomorrow for her year in Israel, I watch her flitting and jittery - after just one cup of Chai Latte. "What's wrong?" I ask. "I'm so nervous," she responds. "Why?"
She's nervous about making new friends, leaving old ones, about taking the valuable year off, about being in environments she may find challenging, with only new people to depend on. She's nervous about everything. She doesn't realize just how much I get it. My experience leaving New York, saying goodbye to my friends and family, taking my work along with me on the promise of another, with prayers for success, was very similar to what she is doing. My experience was permanent. I married a man who lives elsewhere. I took the leap. It was scary. And it all happened very fast. For me, for him, for our kids. Adjustments are supposed to take time. But time waits for no one. And when it's time to take a leap, sometimes the quickest way is to close your eyes and step off the cliff.
We leave things behind - in the hopes that where we go, we will discover new wonders. It's a trade-off. Hopefully a good one. And I tell her I know that it feels bittersweet. As she leaves the confines of her home, the country where she was born, the county where she was raised, the doe-eyed boy who swears he loves her who can never be more than a sad fantasy first love, I am sure my daughter will discover a new life - quickly.
Because life moves fast. It has for me. It will for her. And I wish her safe and happy landings, wherever it takes her.