I can remember leaving on trips with my grandparents when I was younger, waving at my mom as we drove out of the driveway, smiling and waving. I was headed for fun. With her sunglasses masking her tear streaked cheeks, I never understood why she was crying. I understand now.
The worry about the safety of their well being and their physical safety has wrap itself tightly around my heart. As I walk around the house and glance at certain items that up until now didn't mean as much to me as they do now, it's as if they may never return to them again. The chair my youngest daughter eats her breakfast ever morning looks lonely. I want to fling my body on it and hug it until I can no longer hug. The skateboard my middle daughter rides triggers a tear. I would love to ride it to feel closer to her but my fear of flying off it holds me on land. My oldest daughter's array of clothing piled in her closet breaks my heart and these powerful emotions take me down into a wave panic and despair. I feel I may never ask her to pick them up again.
Mom always told me how one day I would understand what it was like when they leave the nest. They haven't even left the neighborhood and I can't help but boo hoo my eyes out. My husband looks on at me and tries to make me smile but it hasn't come quite yet.
As a parent what is the longest you have been away from your children?
How long would you let them go on a vacation with their grandparents?
