‘How was your last day at work?’

What might have been a sad day was not. Overnight the heat and humidity fled before a cool front, and early this morning I walked Daisy with a sweet breeze ruffling my hair and a pale three-quarters moon hovering over the water in a blue true sky.

At the office, Mary had brought a huge sack of fresh bagels and three kinds of cream cheese, and Juli came in with amazing pastries and muffins from Seven Stars. Sandy and I spent much of the day finishing a thorough clean-out of our respective offices – and they are more than offices; they have been our professional homes for decades. The stack of materials I gathered for recycling included Brown student directories going back to 1971-72, my sophomore year! – this one inscribed on the front in turquoise Flair pen, "Anne Hinman, Emery Hall." Why did I still have it nearly 40 years later? Who knows. Now I've sent it on to become a new piece of paper and freed myself of a useless thing I've dragged with me all these years.

All day, colleagues stopped by or called. Friends sent sweet e-cards: "Thinking of you." It was a day for remembering and laughing. Kate gave me the biggest, squeeziest hug ever, and Martha brought a nosegay of fragrant lavender tied with a bow. Computer guru Peter wore his "Life is Good" T-shirt and scrambled to erase the hard drives of the five of us leaving by day's end, one of whom was himself, alas. (On the plus side, he begins a new job tomorrow.) My boss came up late in the day to say good-bye and that she was sorry; I believe her. Carrie adopted my ficus plant and carried the microwave oven to my car as I left for the last time.

When I picked up Melinda in front of the South Main Street law firm where she is working this summer, she didn't launch into the usual litany of funny stories about her job, but looked hard at me and asked, "So, Mother – How was your last day at work?" She gave my arm a sympathetic squeeze. "I had a really nice day, actually," I replied. Her warm hand lingered on my forearm.

Tonight: A taste of my life after August, when I'll be on my own 5.5 days a week. Right now Melinda is at Target with Brittney, Kevin at a movie with Mike E., Michael in Connecticut. At home it's just me, Daisy, and the parakeets. As the sun floated lower this evening, I picked a few tomatoes and watered the petunias. I sat for a moment in the porch rocker and watched the soft white sails of a racing fleet in the bay.

I stopped. I breathed. I smelled the roses.