Leaving on a Jet Plane

Yesterday my two daughters (15 & 13) boarded a plane to fly to Florida, all alone. The sensation of watching that jet speed down the runway and take flight with my babies on board is beyond definition. To see that huge machine grow smaller and smaller, knowing my sweet daughters were somewhere inside seemed a breech of physics. They couldn't possibly grow so small as to disappear from my sight. A hundered pounds, plus and minus, of flesh and blood doesn't vanish into the blue sky. It isn't possible.

At the point where the plane was still visable, I experienced such a sense of helplessness. If they had driven off in a car, I could follow. But where they were was completely beyond my reach. No car could take me there, no ladder so high as to climb to them. I could see where they were, but I couldn't reach them.

Beyond my reach. Children beyond a parent's reach. The definition of heartache? Perhaps I have too many children beyond my reach at this moment. A son tearing away maternal bonds as he prepares to enter college in the fall. Another son living so in his own mind unexpected actions knock me off my pins. Daughters disappearing into the blue.

Leaving on a Jet Plane. Keyword - leaving....
(Just realized I quoted another JD song)