While I'm listening "Flying", composed by James Newton Howard, from the soundtrack of the 2003 film "Peter Pan", I hear a bitter feeling, and I feel it in my heart. My second daughter, Susi, departs next Saturday 18th to Helena, Montana, USA, where the next academic year she'll study second high school (grade 12). She will be nearly a year away from home, living alone, being a new daughter in an American family.
A parent always assumes a tear separated from one of his sons, one of its offshoots ("renewal or tender bouquet that sprouts tree or other plant"). We feel that a part of our us tears, and that part, in the case of a child, is a piece of heart.
We will spend nearly a year without seeing it, without hearing her voice (live, because now, thanks to the internet, we hear and see her almost every day via electronic, but it is not the same), without seeing her face, her reaction to the sorrows of life, or to the joys, without hearing the bell of the door and entry into a barrage of she and her friends, without hearing ripping her crystalline voice and her guitar singing the songs that she herself composed, without witnessing her anger so many contradictions, her hours of study enclosed in the study room, her football bag always ready for training and matches.
For a parent is difficult for all this, having a daughter so far, so young, so much time.
But however, she is excited, she has not stopped to chat with her new sisters since she knew her fate, and before such an adventure is displayed very happy. We know that it is the best for her, and we are confident that she will be able to take advantage of this valuable opportunity to grow, mature, learn, an opportunity that their parents didn't have.
But a year goes fast, very fast, and soon she will back.