I've always loved work. (Our longtime house sitter saysit’s because I’m a Capricorn. I have no idea what thatmeans, but I’ll own it.) I currently have two “job” jobsas well as wrangling half of the house chores, and a fairshare of tending to our pets, Kismet, Zuri and Fig with myhusband Alan. And without sounding sappy or cloyinglyprecious, my most important job has been as a mother toour daughter Elle for the past 18 years. By every measure she’s been an “easy” kid, yetas nearly all parents know, it’s still extraordinarily hard, soul wrenching work…work thatgives you sleepless nights, grey hair and TMJ.But like we’ve prepared for, and as it’s supposed to, my “work” as a mother is aboutto change. Elle is off to college this fall at Santa Clara University, so my day to day isgoing to look a lot different. The time I’m about to get back from not picking up errantsocks alone is immeasurable. From what I hear, being an empty nesteris fantastic, and many of my friends make it look amazing, but I don’tknow if I’m going to be any good at it.I’m heartened to see that many of the people featured in thestories in this issue aren’t just making their next chapters lookbearable, they’re thriving. They’re collecting art, making art, playingin orchestras, baking, volunteering and even sailing and flyingaround the globe. Intellectually, I know that they can’t have felt thatdifferently than I do, and just look at them now. We’ll see what fillsmy blank space.So, to my friends and neighbors also entering your renaissance, I’llsee you on the other side.
