Three came back

Melinda on the bed in her new room, with Michael setting up her clock radio.

Kevin makes sure Melinda's network connection is working: Yep.

Michael, Kevin, and I moved Melinda into her Syracuse dorm all day Wednesday, had supper with her in the cafeteria, and left for Cooperstown that night. I had been in a state of dread beforehand and numbness during the move-in. As soon as we hugged one last time and walked away from her dorm, I melted into a blubbering blob of mournful goo.

We drove on route 20 southeast of Syracuse, up and down lovely rolling hills quilted with farms, splendid with weathered red barns and waving corn fields. The sun set in glory behind us, turning the world gold and ruby. Everything looked like a scenic calendar page for the month of August. And in our rented minivan, I sobbed and sobbed, tears streaming down my face and puddling around my neck. Leaving Melinda felt like losing a limb; I was incomplete, stunned.

The next morning, I awoke at our no-frills motel on a lovely small lake near Oneonta and photographed this scene, which brought to mind a snippet of a children's song by Raffi, which got me crying all over again.

Four little ducks went out one day,
Over the hills and far away.
Mother duck said, "Quack, quack, quack, quack!"
But only three little ducks came back.

Yesterday was pretty bad on the mourning front, but I had some good distractions, mailed Melinda a postcard, texted her on the phone a few times, and hung out with my two guys in a gorgeous part of New York State (see map at left). In the morning I sat by the little lake and prayed the Rosary and asked for strength and composure, for acceptance of this new phase of our lives, for safety and courage for Melinda, and for the continued love our family shares. The prayers honestly seemed to help; this morning I woke up refreshed, even cheerful.

Life does go on. Now, let's see: how many days until Syracuse's Family Weekend? That would be 70 days, in fact. Let the countdown begin!