Flying Solo

Leaving our two younger children in Kazakhstan in the safe hands of friends we returned to England so that our eldest could embark on the biggest adventure of her life, boarding school.  When the time came she took with her a few things (amongst others); a jar of pebbles that we had collected from Chesil Beach; and two books by Thomas Hardy, which we started reading in the garden of the cottage where he was born in Dorset.

This is a wondrous time for her to spread her wings doing something that she so earnestly wants.  Who are we to stop her, even if it is the hardest thing that we have ever had to do?

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2 Responses to Flying Solo

  1. As always on these occasions you seem to find courage when you need it most, it’s luckily lurking somewhere in the shadows. It’s best just not to look for it too often.

  2. Thank you for those kinds words, it means a lot to us.

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