Well, there’s the part about me helping my beloved friends move home with their two little kids. Babies to bounce, luggage to juggle, noses to wipe, etc…
But that’s only part of it. Probably half of it. Maybe…
Then there’s the other part about me finally being at a point in my life (almost 52) and my amazing business (super employees, including the fearless Elisabeth who’ll be running the show) and in my parenting (two kids, 19 and 16), that I can actually pause and be real. In this case, I’m being real about the pain. The heartbreak. The grief that is a huge part of these particular friends and these particular little ones moving. So. Far. Away.
Do you ever have a friend where you can just pop over at a moment’s notice and then suddenly there’s hot tea, a snack or even a full meal right in front of you? Or what about one that texts you when the new baby is coming, and you throw off your stinky clothes, throw together another outfit and charge out the door? Or how about one that you spend hours every spring, summer and fall strolling through the woods, talking about life and hunting mushrooms.
How about friends whose kids love you like a family member? Who light up every time they see you and who share with you a series of cookey greetings?
These friends are those people, that family of choice for me. Their move reminds me that everything is temporary. That letting go is always a part of it and that love and grief need our time and care. Thank you for your well wishes and prayers as we travel.
And upon my return, thank you for understanding what it is like to love someone and to lose their physical presence and constance to distance.