This past week Julia was out of town at a friend's house. It was a great visit. Adam and I still had Philip at home, and although he is our child, it's hardly like having a child at home. He's 22, and we have a third adult in the house. This will probably be the last time he'll come home and live with us for any significant length of time.
We are scattered. As I listen this summer to my children's plans for next year, for their lives, I realize they are swiftly moving out of my circle altogether. They are leaving so fast. They are wonderfully independent kids, and we have great relationships with them. They love us and like to come home. But oh! how I miss seeing them. I stopped briefly in Statesville yesterday and saw Peter and Kara for about an hour. I wanted to hug him and never let go. When will the time come when I don't see him for a year? Two? Five? How is it possible that a child of one's own heart can by physically so far away? Every mother feels this, I suppose. Fathers too.
This is nothing new; it is only new to me. I'm the youngest child in my family, and I'm not used to doing anything first. But this lonely transition into emptiness will be mine to accomplish before my sisters-in-law. I am trying to prepare.