I felt ridiculous for crying. As I sat in the corner of my daughter’s room, slowly packing up her essentials, I fought to convince myself that we wouldn’t be gone forever. I refused to feel guilty for abandoning her scraped-up, beloved Breyer horses who seemed to peer at me with suspicion from atop their shelf. I suppressed my sadness as her closet crumbled into my suitcase, leaving behind loosely dangling coat hangers and disordered gaps in her drawers. Clinging to her little pair of riding breeches, I debated if they were worth the space in our limited luggage.
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Article written by: by Elise Butera