Wishing you were here
When you have a newborn you have that little creature with you constantly. Sooner or later you get someone you really really trust to keep an eye on them while you do something else, but it's a short separation.
Later, you send them off somewhere for part of a whole day. Day care, preschool kindergarten. You know where they are at all times and you think of them nearly constantly.
A few years pass and they go off overnight. Maybe a trip alone on an airplane to visit the grandparents. Then its high school trips and before you catch your breath they're driving off to college, stars in their eyes.
Hello! Goodbye! Hello! Goodbye! Love you, miss you, wish you were here, wish I were there.
Having a grownup child who doesn't live nearby means that you live with a near-constant ache in your heart. You miss them when they're not with you. When they are with you you're fighting with the clock to try to keep them longer. The day they go back home is Day One of the wait for the next visit.
I keep reminding myself that I see Michele more often than a friend of mine in the states sees her daughter who lives on the opposite coast. But it's still hard to let go from that last hug in the airport, knowing that it might be a year before I'll get another precious couple of weeks with my grownup baby.
I'm so proud of the woman she has become. I know that she and I are both highly independent women and it is that very character trait that has resulted in us living on opposite sides of the globe. I wouldn't trade that independence (hers or mine) for anything.
I love you, Shellie Mackarellie.
Later, you send them off somewhere for part of a whole day. Day care, preschool kindergarten. You know where they are at all times and you think of them nearly constantly.
A few years pass and they go off overnight. Maybe a trip alone on an airplane to visit the grandparents. Then its high school trips and before you catch your breath they're driving off to college, stars in their eyes.
Hello! Goodbye! Hello! Goodbye! Love you, miss you, wish you were here, wish I were there.
Having a grownup child who doesn't live nearby means that you live with a near-constant ache in your heart. You miss them when they're not with you. When they are with you you're fighting with the clock to try to keep them longer. The day they go back home is Day One of the wait for the next visit.
I keep reminding myself that I see Michele more often than a friend of mine in the states sees her daughter who lives on the opposite coast. But it's still hard to let go from that last hug in the airport, knowing that it might be a year before I'll get another precious couple of weeks with my grownup baby.
I'm so proud of the woman she has become. I know that she and I are both highly independent women and it is that very character trait that has resulted in us living on opposite sides of the globe. I wouldn't trade that independence (hers or mine) for anything.
I love you, Shellie Mackarellie.