It is Tuesday.
A work day.
I am here at my desk because that is where I am supposed to be on a Tuesday.
Where I have been on Tuesdays for most of my adult life.
But today is different.
For the most part, my office is empty.
There are more books in boxes than on my bookshelves.
Several pictures remain on my desk.
They will be the last things I pack.

I remember a story I read some time ago about a parent going for a walk with their child. As they walked, they came along a stone wall. And, just as my children did when they were young, the child wanted to climb up and walk along the wall. Once up on the wall, the parent reached out to take the hand of the child. Only this time was different. This time the child pushed the hand away and declared, “I can do it myself.” Of course she could. Of course he could. And, with confidence and courage the child walked down the wall while the parent, no longer needed in the same way, watched.

Today, I feel a bit like that.
Not the child part, but about the letting go.
What I have had a hand in or on for so long is no longer mine to hold.
I let go.
And watch.
And celebrate.
And dream.
And pray.
These are people and this is a community I care deeply about.
More than I can put words around.
I have done my best to care for them and about them.
And they have cared for me.
As I said to them on Sunday…
I am who I am because of who they are and have been.

The gratitude runs deep.