For several weeks now, we’ve been building this pile. These boxes are filled with the things Sophia will need in her new apartment. Not including the black table on which the boxes are stacked and the now-defunct TV on the right, this is her new life.
Tim expects me to be emotional when we drop her off. He may be right. But for now, my only emotion is excitement. She’s going back to her independence, back to a life she builds herself, back to the process of opening up the world and seeing what it holds for her.
We’ve been working for a couple of weeks on cooking tips, and she’s got some meals ready to prepare. She’s registered for classes and has made arrangements for transportation to campus. She’s as ready as she’ll ever be. I prepared a box of pantry items for her, something I never got to do for my sons (who are, I am certain, eating Kraft Dinner with ketchup for every meal *shudder*), and have helped her think through kitchen accessibility tools.
Will I freak out later? Maybe. Most of my Sophia-related freakouts have to do with her wheelchair tipping over on a curb, not household-related things. She’s been preparing food for herself in some capacity for a long time, and I’m certain she’ll do fine.
My overwhelming feeling for her is pride. This girl is *fearless*, and that serves her well in this world of overwhelming obstacles. That strong-willed girl I raised has turned into a fierce advocate for herself and others. She’s a battler, a champion for doing and saying the right thing. Yes, she likes to have fun (just like my mother, the party girl), but when it comes time to work, she puts her head down and accomplishes the task. Like all of us, she’s got things to figure out, levels to reach on her own best practices, and thousands of miles of unexplored roads of her own personality. She’s nowhere near finished developing into the person she’ll become.
But for this step, for the moment when she steps up to the task of taking care of herself day to day so she won’t die from cold and hunger, she’s got this. Watch her go.