Back to Utah, an imperfect familial milestone

Today is the day my daughter flies back to Utah to live with her mother again, as Fate intended it.

I haven't blogged much about it because of the negative feelings that have seeped into the whole arrangement. There are senses of failure, regret and loss that make it unpleasant to ponder, especially in print for everybody to ponder with me. My Dad and my brother (why do we capitalize the word "Dad" and not "brother"? Am I doing it wrong?) and my good friend Joe are very against it, and I don't blame them. I'm not thrilled about it myself. Unfortunately, they're human just like me, and as limited as I am in their ability to come up with a better plan, and so we roll with the plan we have now: back to Utah.

I said I'm not thrilled about it, and I'm not. That doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do. It just means it's not a perfect solution. There are signs that it's the right thing to do, if such signs are to be found at all:

• No other option made itself known, and believe me, we were lookin'
  
• Once the decision was made, the relief of said decision-making process was immediate
  
• No resistance to the idea was raised, from any of the quarters that could have arrested the process (her Mom, my daughter, etc.)

In other words, if one were looking for signs, as in: "Hey Universe, if this isn't right, let me know by fucking it up like all the other plans you determine aren't 'meant to be,'" then this absence of impedance could clearly be construed as God's rubber stamp of approval.

I have to admit to the relief of closure about the whole thing that borders on exultation. The last year hasn't been a picnic, familially speaking, and the last six months even less so. I am very much looking forward to the drive back from the airport, and the simplicity, privacy, certainty and freedom promised thereafter.

I have to remind myself that we can take pride in the fact that we took a chance, brought her out, and did the best we could for as long as we could. That's not nothing. I don't know that it's fair to paint ourselves heroically over it, but it's worth remembering. I tend to forget positives like that, and focus on the negative, searching for something to feel bad about. What a lousy habit that has become. Gotta ditch it.

And so we'll trudge forward today with the unpleasant business at hand, resolute with the sense that it's the best imperfect step we can take. It's still a bummer.