A week ago, Ed left and an hour later, my daughter emerged at the Paris airport. This time, she’s returning home (sob!) and within minutes, I’ll be heading north for a week with two friends from law school days.
We walked, she and I, to the RER station very early this Sunday morning, past shuttered houses and closed cafes, past the locked gates of the Luxembourg Gardens.
I let her go, in the way that one must let one's children go. To the station, through the turnstile, down to the tracks. A final wave and a forced smile as I watch her settle in to wait for the 6:54 a.m. to l'aeroport CDG.