Oh, time… you fickle whore.

09 Jul Oh, time… you fickle whore.

Today I’m just really sad, and writing is always really hard for me when I’m super sad, because I pretty much just want to roll into a little ball and sob all day.

So my biggest boy was here for a couple of days, part of a quick mini-tour of the US to visit friends and family before embarking on his next big adventure.

It’s always bittersweet, these brief visits with him… elated that he’s here, wistful that he can’t stay longer.

It’s a bit surreal… watching my boys together. My youngest babbling, crawling, clapping, standing, charming everyone around him and laughing as we all fall in love with him over and over again. And my oldest, a man now. I have to remind myself that he’s not a kid. Not a teenager.

He. Is. A. Grown. Man.

He has a girlfriend. And a car. An important job. And responsibilities.

And yet.

When I look at him.

My memory flies back in time to the tiny babe I once held close to me. Rocked to sleep. Danced with. Sang with. Laughed with. Learned with.

Then, early this morning, watching him drive away, my heart both full and happy, broken and heavy.

What a strange dichotomy, this love. holding on. letting go.

Hugs and kisses. Wave goodbye. Heart swelling. Open open. Tears falling. Open open. I love you. Drive safe. Call me when you get there.

Ouch.

I am so proud of you.

I wish you could stay.

It really never gets easier.

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