Lost?

Sloan

On August 2 we moved our beautiful daughter to North Carolina where she had taken a job as a special education teacher.

It has been two full months now and during that time I have kept myself extremely busy and tried very hard not to think about it too much. But, last night I was driving home from my writing group with a dear friend, Judy, who is kind and spiritual and understanding and I began telling her a few things.

I haven't wanted to talk about it, and I certainly haven't wanted to write about it. It just felt like, if I let down my guard, it would be like opening a vein and the hemorrhaging would begin.

I know that lots of people's children move away and they cope just fine and I should just grow up and stop being so dramatic about it.  But the fact is, I'm not like a lot of other people and,  although I'm not really a dramatic person, I have very deep feelings when it comes to my family.

For one thing, our family doesn't move away. They just don't. Grandparents, parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins - alive or dead - they are all still here in Michigan. Why does it have to be my daughter who decides she must leave?

I have an acquaintance who constantly complains about how her daughters are scattered all over the country and I always think to myself "Good Lord! If you were my mother, I'd move as far away as I could get too!"  Is this my punishment for thinking such unkind thoughts?

Now that my mother has passed away, I am surrounded by males: husband, sons, grandsons, brothers. I have two daughters-in-law, but they are busy with their work and families and they have their own mothers to dote on. I feel like I have no "soft place to fall."

I wanted a daughter so badly when Sloan was born and I delighted in raising her, but always felt it wasn't enough time. I am greedy for more. I was looking forward to relating to her as an adult, and certainly I know that I can do that to some degree even though she's far away. But there will be no casual drop-ins, no last minute lunches, no shopping trips just for fun. And when she has a family, I won't be the grandma the kids want to spend time with.

I know she felt she needed to find her own way in the world, and I was determined that I would not be the one to clip her wings. But, time is on her side and it's not on mine. I'm afraid that I will never again be able to spend any significant amount of time with her, that our visits together will be superficial at best, and time constricted at worst.

My heart hurts and I feel I have lost something irreplaceable. And this is why I haven't been able to write about it. For now I'll put on a tourniquet and think about it later when I'm stronger.