Live to Work, or Work to Live?
I’m with my husband, daughter and son—my family—for a ten-day trip to England and Wales. As I write these words, I feel a lump in my throat. Lila is 18, and in late August, she’s off to college. Johnny, almost 16, also has his own busy happy life. It’s very likely that the four of us will never again travel as a contained unit. Tom and I seem to have done what we were supposed to do in that department—raised independent kids who are engaged in their own interesting lives, form successful relationships, seek our advice, but don’t cling. More to the immediate point: they don’t need us the way they used to, and they don’t like being dragged around any more than you or I.
