On human geography

We had a party here last night for my youngest sister, Judith, who is driving today with her husband and daughter and menagerie of pets to his new job and their new home in Atlanta. Great party; we do throw great parties. 40 people, all of them laughing.

At midnight the guests were gone, and my mother and sister were sobbing into each other's arms in the driveway beside the packed car. Like a movie. My kids kept angling around them, fascinated and alarmed by the tears and sounds. And then, of course, the two of them joined in. No pretty crying, but full-throated, screaming sobs. This morning they're still subdued. I keep telling them that, practically speaking, Atlanta's not all that much farther than New Jersey--that we'll probably see them all just as much as we always have. But that's not exactly so, of course. And anyway, now and then the human experience offers up an occasion to purge accumulated reservoirs of sorrow, and I think all we can do is stand aside.

Bon voyage, Jujy, and happy new life.