The start to the start of a new start?

My darling daughter is now in Portland, Oregon, scoping out the place because she wants to move there. I took both my daughters there for my birthday, thinking they’d get a kick out of it. Turns out, she LOVED it and has been setting her sights on it ever since. I’m pleased that she’s made this her goal, and even more pleased that she had the forethought to do some recognizance. It whipped into gear her organizational skills. She and her friend planned the route, the stops, the accommodations at AirBNBs, and even a tour from a friend from Phoenix (not too keen on that as she’s supposed to be starting fresh, but oh well).

I’ve heard bits and pieces about her trip, and all her texts are positive: “I feel like I’ve lived here my whole life.” “It has everything I need here (except my mommy).” “It’s so pretty here.” “I want to live in so many areas, that I think I’ll get a van and just park it in a different neighborhood each week.”

I’m excited for her to make this giant change—she could use it and I support that. She hates living in this city, and bad memories drudge up everywhere she goes. She’s been pretty strong and has come around and been good—her probation is over, her debt to society has been paid, and she was offered a good job that will start in a few weeks. I desperately want her to finish school and take care of her health issues, but she procrastinates. I give up; It’s her life.