A few years back Hannah left this for me
to find one morning after she had
returned to NYC.
It made me laugh.
It made me cry.
It hangs on the wall next to my desk.
Now it occasionally makes me misty.
DD is all packed and ready to leave early tomorrow.
One of her best buds is here cramming in some more
best bud time and I can hear the chatter upstairs
as I sit herepast midnight not wanting to sleep
and miss a second of the sounds.
We did not get to do a lot of the things we had planned due
to the plague that descended upon my house last week.
All three of us in pj's an entire week, sick as could be.
The Beau has recovered and departed for LA,
DD has a light cough and of course,
I am still hacking away.
Bonding time with a twist.
The poor Beau saw me sans makeup,
washed hair or even clean clothes one day and vice-versa.
We all sacked out in the family room
amid piles of quilts, pillows, soups and Vicks.
I became "MOM" to him also.
I feel greedy wanting more time with the kids.
I had kid company almost a full month
and that has not happened in 5 years.
I'm trying not to count the months till
the next visit, but it creeps into my mind.
I'm already planning a run to see
Dearest Son and his love
ASAP. Thank Heaven he lives closer.
We managed several visits this year.
Each one more precious than the last.
The kids think if I were busier or "involved" that I would
miss them less. I know they are wrong.
Although I am thrilled for their lives far away,
and always support their choices,
I lived my entire adult life far from any family
and I know it sucked.
In a reverse way of course, missing my parents,
but it still sucked.
I'm not the whiny "oh woe is me Mom"
or a clingy Mom to them but
I do miss them always, every day.
Having close, loving relationships
with your children is such a blessing,
but it also deepens the distance,
intensifies the longing for a mama
away from her children.
I have weeks of work ahead so I will knuckle down
and tend to my chores and work on my projects
and bless Skype and telephones and emails.
Long ago when folks sailed to other countries
or wagoned their way across this country
and left loved ones behind,
the sound of breaking hearts
must have been a deafening roar.
An empty nest is a sad one.