So my oldest daughter was home for a few days, and it was blissful to have her here, but bittersweet, too. I'm one of those people who struggles with what they call The Now. Can't enjoy the flower I'm smelling for thinking about the one I'll pick next, so to speak. Even though I enjoyed having my "baby" home, I kept thinking Only X number of days until she's gone again. And then she was gone again.
We took long walks together. Ate meals together. Threw a party together. Cleaned up after said party. Left town for a night and two days. Talked. Laughed. Hung out. Watched a movie. Sat on the porch. Ate lunch outside. And even put up a partition in front of the air conditioning unit (I'm sure that was the highlight of her trip!).
One night last week we went to our local pub for dinner. All three girls were walking ahead of us, and I looked at my husband and said, "Can you believe those tall, lanky girls used to live in my womb?" My husband gave me a funny smirk and kind of laughed. As mothers we have to let go. We have no choice, after all. And if we've done our jobs well, our kids won't be living in our basements jobless and penniless at thirty. Still, there is something unnatural about a person who used to live in your womb moving clear across the country. And for the record, if any of my girls are jobless and/or penniless, they are welcome to live in my basement because that's what mothers do.
It was a tearful goodbye. The house felt empty and my heart was heavy after this beautiful girl left for California again. She is lovely and smart and wonderful, and I am immensely proud of her. My goal for the rest of the week is to carry on and to enjoy, truly enjoy, the girls who are still living in my house. We are not promised tomorrow or next week or next year. The Now really is all we have.