So this morning I dropped off Nighean Dhonn for her last day of 8th grade. It was the quiet passing of an era disguised as just another day of commuting.
A double ear ender of sorts: not only was it the last day for Nighean Dhonn, it was also the last day of 10 years of dropping Na Clann off for elementary and middle school.
We have been driving there for 10 years now, literally from August of 2009 (the day after everyone arrive here) until today. For about half of those years The Ravishing Mrs. TB drove them; for the remaining years I did.
Over the years things have changed, of course, from listening to children's songs to them watching movies to Nighean Dhonn plugged into her headphones while I slowly wend my way through morning commute traffic and grumble about it. But for eight months of the year, that was how mornings were spent.
And now, with a single car door closure, it is all gone.
It strikes me as odd, of course - this precipitous ending of eras that seem to happen in the blink of an eye. Reading history, I rather like to think that most people see the big changes coming instead of having them just arrive, but in point of fact they arrive more quickly and unannounced than they do in a slow, stately fashion.
Next Monday - and every Monday hence - the route will change. It will just be me in my little car, taking a direct route to work, the only occupants of my car the ghost of an era now gone and my memories.