sentimental schoolyard

At some point, when leaving Ruby to enter school, she gets out of the car and walks by herself across the parking lot (the schoolyard) to go to class. All of a sudden, in my eyes, I am not with her; she seems alone, bringing herself to the door, without me.

I know it's sentimental to think of her, her hand in mind, all the way to the building in our own, joyous stride. But now she is being independent, more than ever, right now, to me.

When she says (so I still feel like she needs me, I hope) "will you come with me?," I must and always say "yes."

it's a good day to

A few days ago, Jim Carroll died. We heard it on the morning radio as we were going to school (2nd grade). Ruby anxiously wondered, "Who was Jim Carroll?". I said he was an author, a singer and songwriter. She asked how old he was when he died. I answered, "60". She replied, "Well, that makes sense."