Yet beneath the humor was an uncomfortable realization.
Time was accelerating.
He had spent years concentrating on the next problem—the next bill, next school year, next appointment—that he had barely noticed each stage disappearing.
Soon they were learning to drive.
Then came college applications.
Noah proofread essays, drove them to campus visits, completed financial forms, attended meetings, and searched for scholarships.
Eventually, all three received university acceptance letters.
They celebrated.
Noah was enormously proud.
But that night, another emotion surfaced.
Fear.
For years he had worried about whether the girls could survive without him.
Now he began wondering whether he could survive without them.
The Empty House
The first daughter left in August.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Noah carried boxes, assembled furniture, purchased supplies, and gave each of them more advice than they wanted.
Finally, the last car disappeared.
Noah stood outside watching until he could no longer see it.
