It happened. My daughter, a recent college graduate, moved in to her apartment an hour away from home and started her first career job.
Dana, now 21, hates when I worry. Not only because she’s now an adult and has to keep reminding me that she’s perfectly capable of doing things on her own. But also because she doesn’t want to have to worry about me worrying.
And I’m pretty sure God hates my worrying, too.