Just Like That

Hailey moved out this week.

She didn't run away. (like she did when she was 5).
We didn't kick her out (like we threatened to do when she was 17).

She calmly, and with as much forethought as an 18 can muster, signed a lease on an apartment, packed her things over a three week period and took a another sizeable step toward adulthood.

The most surprising thing? The complete and accidental lack of fanfare that accompanied the final moments.

It's a funny thing sometimes... trying to detect when the end of something really happens. Apparently, when it comes to moving out, the end comes when you move the bed. Of course, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure this out... I'm just slower than most.

So on Tuesday night when I helped Hailey move the couch and bed, that was it. No big, final hug. No teary send off.

Why not?

It might have been because she only moved just down the street (she was here for dinner). Or because I have a suspicion she might be back. Or maybe because I am only now just realizing that something big might have just ended.