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When Birds Fly

Posted 07-07-2018 at 09:55 PM by katydid
Updated 07-07-2018 at 10:29 PM by katydid
I never thought of myself as that mother who would be hearbroken when my children left me.

Daycare, kindergarten, sleepovers, even my forays into manic related escapes. All of that, I was a survivor. After all, to me, this was what I thought being a good parent was. Preparing your children for their own lives. Without you.

My children never clung to me. They had their needs and I took care of them. Loved them. Ardently even. Held their hards to keep them safe. Hugged them for us all to feel loved. Practiced what I believed can never tell people you love too often what they mean to you.

My daughter left me years ago. Practically a decade if you go by emotional reality. And, because she had a safe place to go to where we were certain she'd be happier (and I could get to her in 30 minutes), it wasn't hard to let her go.

Ten days ago I dropped off my son in Albuquerque. I have cried every day since. Truth be told, I started crying about two minutes after he told me he wanted to go "back home." I have to admit, I had just prayed he'd stay here with me until high school graduation. But, time even gets away from 18 year old boys apparently.

Part of it is jealousy. I have a job I thought I really wanted working in hospice, but it isn't exactly what I thought. And, nothing against Ohio, but it just isn't my home. And, so I want my different life. A different locale, friends, support. Maybe within a six hour driving radius of my kid..

I wish my boy were here. It is so hard living without the one person you connected with on a daily basis.

I never wanted to be that woman who needed her kids to feel satisfied, but guess what?

I'm wrong again.
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