1 Mother 2 Another

During the gold rush in Colorado, miners
there would head out feverishly trying to strike a vein - literally
hitting the mountain with their pick over and over again in random
places, hoping to knock something pretty and shiny loose. Hence the
term "strike it rich". Anyway, once they found a good vein they'd
work it straight down into the mountain, and lots of men spent
their entire lives digging deeper, hoping the vein continued,
praying just a little more gold would show its head. Working that
far down and in such confined spaces required nerves of steel, but
the men persevered, knowing the potential results would be worth
it, even though sometimes a man would find just a few nuggets here
and there, barely enough to pay for his equipment.


After a while, though, a man might tire of the nerve-racking work,
the black lung, the long hours with sometimes no payoff, and he'd
realize he'd had enough. At this point, they'd walk away and
declare "Deep enough". Men around him knew the nerves were shot,
the exhaustion had set in, and the man had nothing more to run on.
"Deep enough" became a general phrase for the community, a way of
saying someone was throwing in the towel, himself wrung out and
surrendering.


I went to kindergarten orientation last night, came home, and
poured a nice tall glass of something. And drank it all.


I really thought I was fine with this, and though I've joked with
friends the whole path of this journey about "my baby! Oh, no, I
can't believe it!" I've known it's an awesome step for my girl,
and I've been so happy for her. I adored school and can't wait
for her to have that experience, and I've spent the past several
months putting a positive aspect on every part of Maddie's
schooling - being away from us, having to deal with bullies, all of
it spun like a late-night mix-master.


But last night was just too hard. My baby's going to be gone seven
hours a day - the equivalent of a full-time job. I will become a
piece of her life, a slice of it, rather than the center of her
universe. Not so long from now, she'll have a Facebook page -
perhaps two, setting up a decoy page to trick her gullible parents
with. She'll think of me fleetingly, as a spectator in her life or
an annoyance to be appeased. But mostly, I'm just starting to lose
my baby girl.


We have a tradition in our family that I started when Maddie was
born. I bought each girl a charm bracelet, and every time a big
event occurs we add to it - a sort of 3-D diary. I sat down last
night to sort through the possibilities for school charms and could
not make a choice. Lots of cute charms, and I know I'll pick one
of them and look back at it sentimentally ten years from now. But
picking out that charm kind of seals the deal for me, and I'm just
not there.


I'm sure I'll soon pick myself back out of my rabbit hole and
smile and gush, but right now this girl is mined out.


I'm declaring deep enough.