As the bus taking my daughter to her first high school retreat pulled out of the parking lot, I saw her silhouette through the tinted window. Everyone else in the girls’ section of the bus was paired up. She sat alone.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to chase the bus down the street and snatch her off. Instead, I casually said my good-byes to the other moms in the parking lot, went to my car, and then cried.