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Mother Hen

“Bye!” The young girl shouted over her shoulder, waving her hand, her motions frenetic as she rushed to the car. “See you over break!”
Her mother stood in the doorway, dark bags under her eyes from a night sitting up late, listening to her daughter’s peaceful breathing, dreading when it would be gone. Her hair was in quite a state, sticking up everywhere. She hadn’t had time to brush it this morning, what with helping her daughter get her last bags packed away into the car. All week she’d been busy helping, cleaning, packing. There had been no time for long good byes, only a rushed dinner and quick hugs here and there. There hadn’t even been time to feel. But now, it overcame her. Yes, she was proud of her smart, competent, beautiful daughter. She would be fine at college, fine in the real world. Her daughter had been ready for years. But she on the other hand, was having difficulty saying her goodbyes. She would miss her daughters constant chatter, her stories from classes, how philosophy class was making her question everything she ever believed, their Friday movie nights every week. Now, she’d be welcomed home with silence every day. She would have to satisfy her need for conversation over the phone. Her motherly ways weren’t needed quite as much as they were before.
She cupped her elbows in her hands, rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if it was cold, though it was a very warm August day, almost ninety degrees. She already felt empty. Like there was a missing piece inside her. She smiled a sad smile. She had become what she always feared she would become, a mother hen with an empty nest.



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writerwriting said...
Sept. 24, 2010 at 10:16 pm:
comments are appreciated:)
 
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