You would think that someone who has been writing a blog about moving out of the motherhood for four years would be welcoming the permanent exit of one her children with relief and gratitude. And such a person might be out there. It just isn't me.
I miss her.
And while I know she hasn't shipped off to Siberia or chosen to live her life without the benefit of electronic communication, she has packed up the last of her belongings and left the nest to move in with some guy she keeps referring to as her "husband".
Okay, I know this guy is something special but where was he when she was throwing up spaghetti at 2 am, huh? Where was he when she had a science project that was due in twenty-four hours? Where was he during those awkward middle school years? Or rebellious high school days? That's right. Nowhere in sight. And now, after we've done all the hard work, he comes along and snatches the finished product right out from under our noses.
I miss her.
Their new apartment is adorable, decorated with wedding gifts and pilfered items from both of their previous places of residence. She calls me regularly with questions about cooking. She sends me funny e-mails about Breaking Bad. She posts her latest photos on Facebook. It's all wonderful and I'm honestly beyond thrilled that she's found someone to share her life with; someone who makes her happier than I've seen her in a very, very long time.
But I still miss her.
No comments:
Post a Comment