Leaving my son at the airport today, I could feel him pulling away before we’d even said good bye. I would have pinned a note to his shirt: “Please take care of this sweet boy and make sure he gets to where he needs to go, but please bring him back to me at least for a little while.” But he is not Paddington Bear, thankfully, but a smart, vital young man who swears like a sailor, has a mind of his own, and is ready to fly from the nest.
This is what brings the tears–the loss of that responsibility and how my life has been totally shaped around caring for him, his sister, my husband–even the cat! What shape does my life have now? Maybe like vapor, a cloud, flowing around different things, or maybe just dissipating–it would be so easy just to give up and retreat to my comfortable chair.