The reality did not hit until earlier tonight. She is driving cross-country, by herself. And she is trying to make it in record time. And she is trying to save money and was talking about sleeping in her car at night. To appease us, she made a reservation at Hostel 66. For how many nights, I am not sure.
Late afternoon she was in Arizona, aiming for Albuquerque.
Sitting still, I watch the mind go nuts, and the throat tighten, and the stomach clinch, and fear spread through my whole body. And all my accumulated wisdom about the value of being in this moment, and of not giving into useless anxiety becomes of little use.
This is what being a mother does.