Grieving The Last First Day of School

After this year, September will just be September.

On her first day as a high school senior, my daughter wore a thrifted denim skirt with a black blouse. Her eyes were bright and her hair a wild tangle of pink curls that she’d had no time to tame before we were in the car and on our way.

She was wearing her sister’s black leather Docs, but with her own touch — hot pink…