March Slice of Life Story Challenge
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The first time I cried before, during, and after. Before, I tried to hide it. I went to the bathroom, kept busy, and turned away. During, I let them silently flow while trying to smile and encourage her and me. And after, I bawled huge heaping sobs that even my husband could not console. I cried that day, and the next. How would I ever make it without her here?
The next time I did a little better. They were both here then, son and daughter. I cried as I hugged them, and again for hours after.
The next few times I did better. Tears still came, I still struggled to smile through them.
A few times I have managed without them falling while she is near.
And now it’s time again. She has tried to wean me away as if she is the mother teaching her young to survive on their own, less time at home, mentioning not coming back this summer over and over again. I put her off saying “we’ll see what happens,” or just “Ok.” But I know she has her plans, and really I wouldn’t want it any other way.
She’s leaving early today. Only a few bags to haul with her this time; not years of my life bundled into her boxes and bags like before.
I can feel them, they are there ready to spill forth, but I try to swallow them away like a bad dose of medicine.
I know she’ll be back. It’s only an hour away, and yet I just can’t help feeling the loss. My little girl is gone, and in her place a beautiful, smart, funny, loving young woman out to make it on her own.