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Entrance to the fair: $75
Three tickets to ride the Ferris wheel: $20
Cotton candy: $6
Taking the child to the fair again before she’s too old to experience a fair’s wonder: priceless

And the sky was dark and the moon was a beautiful yellowish orange crescent. We listened to Chappell Roan and I had that thought that one day, probably in the not-too-distant future, I’ll long for the days when we lived in our house in Austin near the park and my youngest daughter was still young.

While she’s been enjoying college and playing lacrosse, she’s really been looking forward to coming home. She plays it cool, but admitted that she’s been homesick. She wanted her own bed, her house, HEB, barbecue, and her boyfriend.

Elise, Maly, Jared, Mara and I went to the Salt Lick on Friday night. Elise and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d be there; I think the last time was before Mara was born. It was nice to go back there. It wasn’t crowded. There wasn’t a line. Our waiter was great. The food was great. We all got to talk, and we just had a nice time.

I think my favorite part was the drive out to Driftwood. And I reminded Maly of it. Her very first job was at Vista Brewing, which is out in Driftwood. She got that job right before she got her driver license and I used to drive her to and from work. And even after she got her license, and after she got her first car, I’d still drive her to and from work because we were nervous about her driving on 1826 at night. It’s a narrow, two-land farm-to-market road, and Driftwood has a lot of breweries and vinyards, and Maly just didn’t have enough driving experience at the time. And she didn’t seem to mind the ride to work.

While our house is on the outskirts of southwest Austin and close to Driftwood, it’s still a bit of a drive out into the “country.” It reminds me of growing up in Cat Spring and commuting into Bellville for school or work or Tae Kwon Do when I was in high school.

Often times the ride to work or home was mostly quiet, but it was time that she and I had together. I don’t know if she remembers or cares as much as I do, but those are good memories for me. I fondly remember the cool, dark Fall evening drive, especially when I was on my way to pick her up from work. I think it was on those drives that I would try to come to terms with the fact that life was happening fast. One day you’re holding your baby in your arms and she needs you more than anything else in the world. And the next thing you know, she has a job and you try to help her navigate having a job and money and bosses and coworkers, and creeping up from the back of your mind is the notion that she’ll move out one day and start a life on her own.

And you can’t help but hope she knows that you gave it your absolute best, and as much as it hurts that she’ll have to move on and make a life of her own, she will always have home.

Dad died 18 years ago today. Eighteen years is a lifetime. A journey into adulthood. There has not been a single day in these past 18 years that I haven’t thought about him.

I know I disappointed him a lot when I was a young man. It’s taken me 18 years to learn that he knew it was a part of my growing up and figuring out this life. He pulled me out of the proverbial ditch more times than he probably should have. He let me sit in the ditch too, when he knew I needed to sit in the ditch.

I still miss him as much as the day he left us. I still wish I could see him or call him and ask him the questions that could help me navigate life and fatherhood.

“Your dad has given you everything that you will ever need. Now God needs him.” That’s what my counselor told me when I yelled at her because I was angry at God for taking my dad too soon.

Very often I look up to the stars in the early morning and I can sense him with me. I try very hard and as best as I can. I like to think that he’s proud of me.

His oldest granddaughter is 18 years old now. He got to know her for her first five months of life. He never got to meet Mara. He’d love the hell out of her. He’d love being around them both and watching them grow, just like I do.

Eighteen years is a lifetime. It’s a long time, but it’s also just a wink from a star in the sky.

I’m totally overdue in posting about last weekend. I thought I’d start posting little galleries of the goings on of the previous week and weekend because I’m noticing that memory has turned to absolute garbage. And sometimes I like to read old posts to see what we were up to at certain times in our lives, whether those times were of any consequence or not.

Last Friday we went to the Westlake v. Atascocita football game. Maly’s boyfriend, Jared, is starting left offensive guard, we’ve made friends with his dad, siblings, aunt, and uncle, and, well Westlake football is on a whole other level of high school football. While it was a great game, Westlake lost 39-21, breaking its 44 regular season home game winning streak.

Saturday morning was the regular big group run for the Circle C Run Club. I don’t know what our streak is, but we’ve all been running together at 7:00 a.m. on Saturday mornings since 2018. Elise and I dropped the Jeep off at Firestone because its had some faulty fuel injector wiring. After dropping off the Jeep, we hopped over to Goodwill to get rid of some clothes and for some thrifting.

Maly went on a roadtrip to Roanoke Virginia with some friends from school. The northeast is funny. You can just take a two hour roadtrip for a weekend in another state.

Sunday was my first 20-miler in this training block for the NYC Marathon. I’ve never run the NYC Marathon before, but I know it has some hills, so I planned a route in the Northwest Hills of Austin. The run was great. I mean, running 20 miles involves a certain level of suck, but when you now what you’re getting yourself into, you just sort of learn how to deal with the suck.

I’ve been struggling again this week with Maly being so far away at college. I think what did it was when we talked to her over FaceTime on Sunday evening. All week I get excited and can’t wait to talk to her and tell her all the things that I want to tell her. And then on Sunday’s FaceTime call all I wanted to do is stare at and dote on her, just like when she was a little child.

It doesn’t help that we’ve had a little “false Fall” for the past four days. It’s been in the 50’s in the morning and the humidity is almost non-existent. It feels like Fall. We’ll get another heat wave this week, but the change in temperature and daylight hours have become noticeable.

I walked Mara to school this morning. So far this week I’ve taken the “long way” home. It’s a half mile walk to school. I take a detour on the way back to the house that makes the walk back a mile. It’s been nice outside in the mornings. I’d much rather be walking than sitting at a desk.

I was walking through our little section of the neighborhood. Up off Allerton, on Colberg, on Gaur. I just started thinking about all the times we’ve walked those streets on Halloween night. All the miles we’ve probably put on those streets and sidewalks with Ray, Julia, Nico, Eve, Ava, Emma, Elsa, Kellen, and kids I might’ve forgotten.

I walked by Maly’s old friend Avery’s old house. I’d dropped Maly off at Avery’s house many times. They used to be best friends in middle school. I don’t really know what happened with that relationship. Avery’s parents got divorced, and Avery and her mom eventually moved away. I guess it was a proximity thing. And making new friends. And, just moving on.

It’s amazing how a chapter just closes in a child’s life. And I guess that same chapter closes in your life. But you’re not the one who’s reading or writing the chapter. You’re just a listener. An observer.

I find myself longing for those past times. I have regrets that I didn’t really take in those little moments. Like all of the miles and hours covered and spent on Halloween nights. I was being an obliging parent. I wish I would’ve been a more in-tune listener and observer. I wish I would’ve been more present in those minutes instead of whatever else I was thinking about or doing. Like concerning myself with the immediate future, or anxiously awaiting for this inconvenient phase of childrearing to pass.

I wish I would’ve been more trusting and appreciative of my children’s friends. I wish I would’ve known to see them as the important parts that they played, and hopefully still play, in my girls’ lives and vice versa.

But what I really wish is that I had a better memory. I swear the last 18 years have flown by. Elise has a better memory than me, and I like to hear her recount stories of times with our kids with greater detail. I have photos but I often wish I had more photos.

I think I’ll keep taking the long way home every morning and hopefully I can unearth some of those old photos in my head while at the same time reminding myself to be very present in the moment.

It’s hard to believe that three days have already passed since we saw Maly. We said our goodbyes on Saturday night and we had to be up at 4:00 a.m. the next morning to catch our early flight back to Austin. We had a full Sunday back at home. Monday was our last official day of Summer break with Mara. Elise and I both took the day off of work. Elise and Mara went shopping for school clothes. I don’t remember Monday. I’ve been in a fog.

Mara started school on Tuesday.

Monday night was hard because it was the end of summer. Mara really got the ass end of summer this year. Elise started her new job back in October which requires her to be at the office during the day. I started my new job in June which requires me to be camped out and unavailable during the day. And because of new jobs we weren’t able to travel or do much of any noteworthy weekday daytime activities. Poor Mara was pretty much just camped out in her room all summer. And as a parent, well, that just makes you feel like crap.

Elise went back to work on Tuesday.

I’d barely been at my job for 6 weeks and had no vacation time, so our travels to Charleston for orientation and moving Maly to school were unpaid. As I as planning my my time off for Maly’s move-in, I decided to take Tuesday off as well. I already wasn’t getting paid for a whole week, so I figured one more day wouldn’t add much to the damage. I voluntarily shared our itinerary with my boss, and told her that I wanted to also take Tuesday off for a “mental health day.” I told her I’d probably just hang out by myself in the house all day and cry. I will say that I really like my boss. I have since day one. She totally understood and made no bones about me taking all the time that I needed.

I decided to make Tuesday a good day. We got Mara off to school. She woke up early. She was a little bummed and apprehensive, but also a little excited about starting 7th grade. Elise and I both walked her up the hill to school and it was like back to normal again. After hugs and kisses and goodbyes, Mara was off to start her new school year. Elise and I walked back home together. She had to rush off and get to work.

And then I was by myself. Just as I’d imagined and planned. I was going to commence my good day. I already had most of my day planned…

I went for my scheduled run. I went out later than I would’ve normally liked, but that was okay. I was able to catch up on some sleep. I didn’t feel rushed on Mara’s first day of school. And I had the day off, so I was in no hurry. It was a hard 40 minute tempo run that I didn’t start until 9:00 a.m. I was already pouring sweat halfway into my warm-up. I focused on being in the moment – in that run – and reminded myself that while it hasn’t been in the forefront, I do have the NYC Marathon coming up in a few months and I have a specific goal time that I’m training for.

The rest of day was going to be relegated to posting Mara’s first day of 7th grade photos, and then I was really excited to just kick back and scroll through everyone else’s first day of school photos on Facebook. Then I’d eat. Maybe take a nap. Maybe read. Maybe watch a movie.

I got through posting Mara’s first day of school photo and loving every first day of school photo that I could find on Facebook. And then I started scrolling through 18 years of photos in my Google Photos library and started sobbing. It was healthy sobbing, but it got to the point where it was starting to become draining. So I moved about the house. But everywhere I turned there are pieces and reminders of Maly. I kept crying. I went through a few fits of those chest-heaving sobs. Once when I was just standing in front of the sink in the kitchen. The dog even raised her head as she lay on the carpet in the living room because she knew something was wrong.

I decided to really punish myself and took my laptop into Maly’s room and I sat at her desk and watched old videos of her. And then I went into my closet and pulled out the plastic bin of old cards — birthday, Father’s Day, Christmas cards. I went through a few handfuls of those and tried to recount their presentation, probably at the kitchen table.

My relaxing afternoon turned into a flood of emotions and sorrow and missing Maly. I thought about calling her, just to hear her voice, but I didn’t want to be selfish and subject her to a babbling and crying dad.

I don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I wrote her an email. I thought about texting her but I have a tendency to be long with written words. So I figured an email would work. I guess I just needed to let it out. I just wanted her to know that I love and miss her and that this is arguably one of the hardest bouts of emotions that I’ve ever had to contend with.

I told her about how so badly I wanted to just fly up to Charleston, scoop her up, and bring her back home to live with us forever. But I also told her how selfish that would be, and unfair to the both of us.

I don’t remember everything that I wrote, and it would probably be a long time before I went back and read that email, if ever. I just really wanted her to know that I love her and miss her. I feel like I can never say “I love you” enough. And I worry that I didn’t say it often enough when she was still just in the other room. Or when she was just down the street at work. Or at school. Or driving around with her friends.

This photo is of the blister in the center of my palm that is healing. It’s a blister that I earned from driving screws through a 1-inch common board and into Maly’s dorm room headboard with a screwdriver. I had to fabricate legs for her headboard so they could attach to her bed frame. I had limited tools available to me, so a bit of pressure was required to drive screws into the headboard. The blister hurt at the time, and was in an inconvenient location. But it’s a physical reminder, albeit a small one, of what I’ll do for my child. In a way, I wish it would never heal. I wish it would leave a scar.

This was our final day. The day that we’d say goodbye to Maly.

Maly stayed in her dorm the night before. Her choice to stay felt like a jab to the heart, but it was the right choice. She even said, “I might as well start getting used to it.” I figured it’d be best to be with Jazz, other teammates, and new friends in the dorm so when it did come time to go our separate ways, she’d have an established support system and distractions.

She had orientation and other information sessions all afternoon, so we picked her up and went for brunch at First Watch. Maly had orientation at 1:30, so it was straight back to the dorm where we hung out for some minutes before she and Jazz needed to leave.

Elise, Mara and I checked into our hotel as we were only able to stay in our rental though Saturday. Mara and I stayed in while Elise went out for to pick up some more college freshman necessities for Maly.

The plan was to say our goodbyes on Saturday night as we had a 6:00 a.m. flight home on Sunday. Maly had dinner at school with some of her teammates. She texted us at 6:00 p.m. and said we could come over whenever we were ready. We hadn’t eaten yet and I invited Maly to come with us. She wanted to go to Target with some friends, so I told her to do that while Elise, Mara and I went to dinner.

The girls and I had a pizza dinner at Lola’s at sunset and as a rainbow appeared in the south. Dinner was quiet. We talked about the benefits of catching an early flight in the morning, crossing a time zone, and still having a full day when we got back to Austin. We talked about how it will be different without Maly being there. We talked about the bit of scrambling we’ll have to do before Mara starts school on Tuesday.

As we drove to Maly’s dorm we established a 10:30 p.m. curfew. We had to wake up at 4-something in the morning, and we’ve learned that if you don’t set a hard cutoff for the goodbye, it can drag on and become even more painful than it needs to be.

We hung out in Maly’s room with her, Jazz, and Mackenzie. Maly had already settled in. She had a few friends drop by to say hi. She was already in the process of doing laundry. We told Maly of our 10:30 curfew. We decided to go out to the parking lot.

Elise had put together a series of care packages for certain occassions. Things like “open now” and “open when you need a hug” and “open when it’s Halloween season” and “open on your first day of class.” Mara and I wrote cards for her.

We gave her our gifts at the back of our rental van in the parking lot across the street from her dorm. It was a quiet night. Except for the fireworks in the distance. We couldn’t figure out where they were coming from, but it was a full-on fireworks show. We said our goodbyes and good lucks, and imparted final words of encouragement and wisdom.

For me personally, in the weeks and days prior to this moment, I’d come to terms with the notion that I was going to lose it. I surprised myself by miraculously maintaining my composure. I cried. There was sorrow. But I was also happy. The pride overcame the sorrow. I stood there and was proud of and happy for my daughter.

We all cried. Mara cried and that was the hardest to witness. She was having to say goodbye to her hero. Seeing the two of them hug and hold each other broke my heart.

We said our final goodbyes and I love you’s. And that was it. Maly told us she wasn’t going to watch us drive off. We all knew why. The three of us stood there in the parking lot and watched her as she walked back to her dorm.

And that was it. We left her there. The three of us drove back to our hotel and we left our Maly there.

She’ll do great. We’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I miss her so damn much though.

Every day gets us closer to the inevitable. I woke up early and ran a couple loops through South Hills. There were school kids at a few corners, waiting for their buses. On my second loop on Myrtle a little girl said, “Hey! I saw you ten minutes ago!”

“I saw YOU ten minutes ago. Why aren’t you at school yet?”

“I guess my bus is late.”

I looked to my left and saw her parents smiling at our brief interaction. I kept running and sort of smiled as I thought to myself, “one day they might be taking her far, far away off to college.”

It was grey and drizzling out. The perfect setting for move-in day. I got back to our rental house and showered. Our check-in time for move-in was 11:20. We were running late. We drove over to Piggly Wiggly to grab something to eat. Maly hadn’t yet been to a Piggly Wiggly in Charleston. “No dawdling” was our orders. My made a quick pass through the store and opted for a 4-pack of lemon poppyseed muffins, a carton of blackberries and a carton of strawberries.

We got to campus at around 11:00 a.m. and had to check-in. Maly had to check-in with the athletics department and confirm her physical at 9:30 a.m. on Sunday. We had to check-in with the Student Services and Financial Aid offices. All the boxes had been checked except for the tuition balance box. I had a healthy “negotiation” with the billing manager. I was previously misinformed and had expected to pay tuition in early September. They wanted money today. We walked out of the billing office with everything smoothed over.

We drove over to Maly’s new dorm and everyone grabbed two armloads of her stuff. I went up to her room and found her roommate, Jazz, and mom, Bridget, already there, rearranging furniture. The girls were behind me shortly after. I left it to the girls to decide where furniture would land and who slept where. I went back downstairs to start hauling in the loads. The football team was there to help freshman move in. I came back upstairs with five of my newest Division II college football player friends who were also carrying all of my daughter’s bags, appliances, and other personal effects.

The following six hours were kind of a blur. There was a lot of going up and down three flights of stairs. We put together cubbies and carts and drawers. We unboxed things. I moved more boxes and bags of trash than I can remember.

At 3:00 p.m. Tim and I made a trip to Home Depot to buy 1×3″ strips of common board so we could fabricate mounts for Maly’s bed’s headboard. We only had a screwdriver and a hammer, so now I have the blister on the center of my palm to prove that elbow grease is still a way to get things done.

There was a lot more moving, shuffling, assembling, reshuffling, unboxing, unpacking, putting things away, and organizing until we called it at 6:30 and went to the dining hall for dinner with Jazz and Bridget. It was “Fiesta Night.” Lyle Lovett says, “never eat Mexican food east of the Mississippi or north of Dallas.” Dinner was fine, but I have a feeling that Maly is going to miss some very certain foods in the not-too-distant future.

We went back to the dorm and there was more shuffling and assembling and putting things away. Maly was organizing her stuff in the bathroom and I figured that was as good a time as any to say my few parting things her. It wasn’t the scene that I would’ve scripted or imagined but, again, life isn’t scripted. I told her I wanted to tell her a few things so I pulled out my phone and opened my short bullet list. And that’s when the frog jumped into my throat and I valiantly tried, and failed, to fight back the tears. I don’t know if she retained much of what I said because I can be a quiet and bumbling emotional wreck when I get to that point. But I said most of what I thought was important, and what I needed for her to know as she starts this new college life on her own. And I don’t think anything that I imparted of the philosophical nature was anything that she didn’t already know and heed in her present young adult life.

She and I found ourselves sitting on the floor, just outside of the door to her dorm room. There’s a little placard hanging on the wall just across from her room that is a tribute to the Hesse family, who donated to the university and funds were used to construct the dormitory in which she’ll reside for the next two semesters. I told her that my high school girlfriend’s last name was Hesse. I told her about how my girlfriend was a year older than me, and moved away to college when I was starting my senior year. And like most that I would assume, the relationship didn’t last. At the time we both wanted it to, but I messed that up and fate and luck and whatever else had other plans. That story that I told her as we were sitting side-by-side on the dirty floor took longer than I’d set out. But it was fun to recount that time of my life. And Maly listened. And because of that fate and luck and whatever else, it came out to be the story of how I’d met Maly’s mother. And because of that luck, and many years later, now I was sitting there with my daughter, late at night on the day that we moved her into her dorm room at college.

Maly decided to rip off the band-aid and stay in her dorm, even though we still our rental house for the family. It was hard leaving her there, but we left it to her to decide, and I think it was the right decision.

We all slept in. My eyes were the first to pop open at 7:00 a.m. I’m in the throes of training for the NYC Marathon, so I needed to get some miles in. I got dressed and snuck out for a run. I hit a route that I was somewhat familiar with, which included the Carriage Trail and some of downtown Charleston. I got back to our rental house, showered, and sat on the back patio with my laptop, listened to the sad songs that a dad listens to when he’s soon going to be leaving his firstborn daughter 1,300 miles away for college. I also jotted down some things that I need to talk to her about at some point before we say our goodbyes.

It’s so hard to write those notes. They weren’t as profound as I’d wanted them to be. But they are some things that I need to tell her. I had to remind myself that I’ll still be able to talk to her, so if there’s ever any advice, wisdom, or cheesy dad jokes that need imparting, I’ll still be able to do that. Maybe they won’t be able to occur in person, but that’s okay. I’ve learned that life is rarely scripted.

Elise had to work. We didn’t get out of the house until almost 2:00 p.m. We’d yet to go to a grocery store so our in-house sustenance consisted of a couple bananas, a peach, and whatever painfully sour candies the girls had procured at Buc-ee’s during our travels. We were all hangry at this point. Elise and Maly were at one of those mother-daughter stressed-out impasses regarding the logistics and economics of maximizing a 20% school supply discount at Target.

We tried to go to the local pizza joint in South Hills but they’d already closed for the lunch serving. We decided to drive over to the Southridge shopping area so we’d be in proximity of Target and other big box stores and find something to eat. Statistics have proven that four hangry people can’t decide on where to eat, so we went to Taco Bell.

Then we spent a few hours and a few hundred dollars between Target and Hobby Lobby. Ordinarily I’d be opinionated and crotchety about Hobby Lobby already having Christmas decorations out in mid-August, but on this occasion I found it very comforting. Mara and I found ourselves separated together and we got ourselves caught up in figuring out what kinds of candies we wanted to make for Christmas this year while trying to remember the flavors of taffy we’d made last year. We got excited about the idea of also making chocolates. And we took turns smelling the fall-scented candles. Scents like “Crimson Leaves” and “Buttery Pumpkin” and “Spiced Cider.”

We drove back to our rental house to get some rest. Everyone went to their respective places in the house. The next thing I remember, I was waking up on the couch and hour and a half later and my mouth was dried open. I had enough time to get up, put my shoes on, shake my brain back to consciousness and then we piled into the rental van to go meet the other families for dinner at Olive Garden. The girls decided on Olive Garden because we were a big party and we all wanted to be able to sit together.

Anika and Caitlyn are sophomore transfers and roomates. Maly and Jazz are incoming freshman roommates. All four girls are on the lacrosse team. Anika is from Rochester. The other three girls are Texans. Anika belongs to Dave and Liz. Caitlyn belongs to Tim. Jazz belongs to Bridget. We’ve all known each other through previous lacrosse games and tournaments or from orientation weekend three weeks ago. We’ve all become fast friends.

Dinner was fun and nice. It’s good to have Dave and Tim. This isn’t their first rodeo, so they’ve helped in providing me with some girl dad advice, confidence, and reassurance.

We got home late. Elise did a few loads of laundry. Maly and I sat at the dining room table and did our respective things on our respective laptops. I don’t remember what I was doing. Maly was already doing college stuff. She was in her zone; like she was already on her own, taking care of things that need to be taken care of.

Elise, Mara and I found ourselves in the basement, playing foosball on the table with two missing rods. We made it work though.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was just Elise, Mara, and me down there playing together. And I guess that’s how it’s going to be for a while. There was a lot of laughing, and that was reassuring.

Day 2 started in Memphis. Hotel breakfast of eggs and sausage from chafing dishes, and make-your-own waffles.

We hit the road around 9:00 a.m. and contended with some decent rain for the first hour, and more contending with the semis. The damn semis. One in the right lane is going 58 miles per hour. The one behind it decides to pass at 59 miles per hour. It’s an exercise in waiting on semis to pass each other to clear the left lane.

We made it to Nashville at 12:30 p.m. We drove through the Bellmont University and Vanderbilt campuses, a quick bite at Hattie B’s Hot Chicken, and then Elise, Mara and I did a quick tour of the perimeter of the Parthenon. At that point the girls were tapped out, so Elise and I had to stop and check out the outside of Tennessee’s capitol building. Then we had to go see the Grand Old Opry. I’d say not much of tourist spot unless you’re actually going to the Grand Old Opry. One last stop at the local used sports outfitter to get an extra lacrosse stick for Maly.

Then we were off again. North on 65 up into Kentucky through Bowling Green and a stop at Buc-ee’s in Smiths Grove because the kids have to stop anytime there’s a Buc-ee’s. The landscape wasn’t much unlike all of Arkansas and most of Tennessee until we hooked it east onto the Bluegrass Parkway in Elizabethtown. I’ve now been through the majority of the states in our nation and Kentucky has the most beautiful farm and ranch lands in my opinion. Rolling hills, that Kentucky bluegrass, huge horse ranches with beautiful homes, acreage, and fences. We made it to Lexington at dusk and stopped to get gas and Elise and I traded off piloting. Then it was mostly dark, quiet and fast highway miles through eastern Kentucky and into West Virginia. We could barely make out the silhouettes of the Appalachian range.

We didn’t get to Charleston until around 11:00 p.m. and it was quick to bed for everyone. I think Elise and I were a little too road weary to have our emotions from having made it to our final destination take their toll.

We made it though. Relatively uneventful and unscathed by the road. I neglected to look at the tripometer when we got out of our rental van. I think we hit 1,350 miles with 24 hours of driving time. That included a few hours and quite some miles in Nashville.