How many times have I seen "Fiddler On A Roof"? Like a million? Maybe more? It was one of those 'safe' videos that I could even plug in on Sunday and leave the kids in front of and not feel guilty (well, not very guilty at least).

And it was on the boob-tube last night (why do I feel compelled to ALWAYS watch movies that I ALREADY HAVE when they are aired on television? Is there a support group for this?), and I tuned in right when the second daughter (Havel? Haval? Henry? Higgins?) is waiting for the train to follow her true-love to Siberia prison camp (or someplace cold and wasted in Russia where they send people who wave red flags in protest), and is singing to her father about why she's leaving (none of my kids ever sing when they leave; is this a common way to depart from home that I don't know about? Is there an on-line course I can refer them to?).

(Now if I can stop the ((())) for a few moments and get to the POINT, girlfriend...)

And sappy old me, I begin CRYING. What is it? I've seen this movie, I know what's coming, this is not a new, surprising story-line that hasn't been used before - I can't even use PMS as an excuse anymore.

So you know why I'm crying? Because MY daughter is moving soon. No, she isn't going to go to the frozen tundra of Russia via slow steam-engine to catch up somewhere in Siberia to a man she isn't even married to yet. And she certainly isn't going to sing a tear-jerking melodic farewell to either her father or me.

SHE'S MOVING TO HAWAII.

She's moving with all the benefits and advantages of a military officer's family. All of her household goods are being packed, shipped and delivered to her home in Hawaii. She, her kids and her husband (hopefully at the same time) are going to be flown to the islands. They are going to have a place to stay when they get there. They have a place to stay before they leave.

I think I'll just google for that support group for watching movies you already have. Or to find that course for my kids.