Grief — Light

Part of my summer brood leaves tomorrow, for a place a thousand miles away. I hope he comes back to visit, but I can’t count on it. He has been in my home and in my office for 2 months. I like everything that I have seen from this man-cub.

And he has loved my daughter. That is how he came to stay with us. They met at a party while he was in her college town — 15 minutes and a phone number. The texting started, then the snap chats and finally moved into Skype. This went on for months until he decided to visit and see if this was real. And it was, is.

It’s time for him to go back home and finish his last year of college. But I’m not ready for him to leave. I will probably never be ready for him. I started grieving several weeks ago when tomorrow became inevitable. I wish I handled these things better — but I can’t seem to find a distraction large enough to work.

Yes, I do realize that on the scale of loss, this doesn’t even register. There is a very good chance that their relationship can survive the distance and time, and he will be back. And yet, my heart is heavy, my tears are close to falling. This happened when my son moved out for school. This happens after every break whenever my daughter goes back to school. I just get sad. My husband, the dog and me — we just get sad.

I, me, we. Such egocentrism.

I’m not sure how my daughter is going to handle it. She doesn’t go back to school (see the paragraph above) for another few weeks. He will be back with friends and family, moving into his new place and busy gearing up for school. She has to wait for all of that activity and distraction. She has a much stronger loss than me.

I am no stranger to grief heavy. I’ve lost family, friends, pets. A marriage. The word grief doesn’t even seem appropriate for this situation, but it’s the word that comes to mind — if you have something else, please let me know.

Families and hosts are preparing for parts of their brood to be moving away, right along with my household. Kids need to leave, go out and find their own ways in the world, to grow up. We want them to go.

Just not tomorrow, maybe next week.

Thanks for listening. If you have any suggestions for me, other than “hey lady, get over yourself”, please let me know.

My best,

Susie

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