There are a lot of subjects that are important to this county that I could write about, but I'm going to take a break from that task.
Instead, I'm going to share a story I'm sure lots of you have already been through, and some will in the coming years.
Dropping your child off at college, saying good-bye, and getting on with your life. It sounds so simple, but it's not.
My wife and I spent 19 years preparing for the day our daughter -- our only child -- would begin the process of being on her own. We knew college was that first major step.
But it's not that easy.
Rachael is ready for college. She can't wait for classes to start Monday, and to tee it up for her first golf match for Ball State University next Saturday.
Deb and I are excited and looking forward to watching her play for the Cardinals, and to see her grow even more in the classroom.
But we also know it won't be the same. She won't be home after classes or a golf match. It's back to the dorm room, three hours away.
But that's OK. We're the ones that must deal with it.
We remember what it was like when we were in Rachael's shoes (except the golf part), wanting more independence and to start shaping our lives away from our parents.
But since we left Muncie at around 8 p.m. on Wednesday, everything -- and I mean EVERYTHING -- we watch on TV, see in the paper, or hear on the radio, reminds us of Rachael.
Deb and I were playing in the couple's golf league at Phil Harris on Thursday after work, and something happened that I know God planned just for us.
We were on No. 6 preparing to tee off, and I noticed someone playing No. 5. I thought I needed to tell my group that we should let them go in front of us, because we were a larger group.
As we were driving to the tee for the ladies to tee off, I noticed it was a man in his mid-20s, and what I hadn't noticed earlier is that there was a little girl, probably about 4 or 5, sitting in the seat next to him.
It's a scene my wife witnessed thousands of times from the time Rachael was 2 until she left Wednesday morning.
I didn't say anything to Deb as we were driving away from No. 6 tee. But I did take a peak her direction, and I could see the tears.
It's hard. Very hard to know your life is changing, and it's time to allow your child to spread her wings and fly.
But that's exactly what we're doing, with the knowledge she'll make good decisions and continue to grow.
Things will never be the same, but they're not supposed to be. That's the great thing about life. If it was always the same, it would be boring.
And I thank God for sending that man and little girl down No. 5 fairway on Thursday. They didn't play No. 6, and I noticed they drove back toward the clubhouse after No. 5.
It had to be a sign, a sign that life goes on but we can't forget all the good times.
And there will be many more good times.