I dropped Sophie off for the first day of her last year at school. I'd like to say that the years have flown by, but they haven't, and I felt choked up as I watched her aides wheel her inside. I don't know if it's sorrow or gratitude prickling at my throat, heavy. Am I weightless or weighed down, is the road straight or does it wind? Abide or endure?
I may lose at any moment through the play of circumstance over which I have no control, anything whatsoever I possess, including those things which are so intimately mine that I consider them as being myself.