I have the post vacation blues. Bad. I miss my kids way too much every time they leave. And each time they come home, I feel older and sadder. Alas. Such is this phase of life.
Tomorrow Jim goes back to Berkeley. Suzanne is already in El Salvador, tending to a sick guest who made the mistake of rinsing his mouth with the water.
I will travel to see both kids in the spring-summer months. When I visit Suzanne, I will bring a suitcase full of Prell and a bow and arrow to help me cope with those mega-cockroaches.
I always thought one plus of living in Poland, Ohio, was that it would encourage my kids to grow strong wings.
They wouldn't be like those kids who want to stay home forever so mom and dad can take care of them.
I'm still happy for the wings.
But I never anticipated the degree of my own sadness. Sigh.
The Voice
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The voice inside my head shouts, "We did not pay for college to have you
teach swimming! We did not raise you to amount to NOTHING!" When I was 20,
worki...
2 hours ago
1 comment:
I am feeling exactly the same and my daughter is only in New York City. I imagine we're a similar age but - sorry I never heard of yard pants - how about petty pants? Diane
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