My bag is packed, final details arranged, the alarm set for me to wake up super early Tuesday morning and I couldn't be more ready to fly out to Washington to visit my eldest.
I haven't seen him in four months. This is officially the longest I have ever been away from him.
When we drove away from him last July, I was gutted. My heart hurt, I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of leaving him in Washington, and I truly didn't know how I would, or if I could, adjust to life without him being just two hours away.
I miss him just popping in on his way to a friend's house, me driving over the pass just to have dinner with him, or him coming over for the day to celebrate holidays or birthdays. I miss being in the same time zone and I miss knowing that I could get to his side in a matter of hours at the drop of a hat.
I miss him, but, it hasn't been nearly as difficult as I thought it would be.
It is probably easier than I thought it would be because he doesn't belong here. This isn't a home that he has ever lived in, his friends and school were never here, there is nothing in North Carolina that reminds me of memories that we shared. It may also be easier because our physical distance has helped me learn how to be the parent of an independent, adult child.
A friend once told me that I was going to LOVE having adult children. I thought she was crazy. But her wisdom has proved true. When he was a baby and took his first steps I held my breath, I was ready to catch him when he fell and make sure that he didn't hit his big nugget on the way down. But then, as he gained confidence in those steps and began to walk more steady and then run and explore completely without assistance from me, my heart was filled with joy witnessing him discover the world on his own. I watched in wonder as he learned to recover after falling, as he decided to be brave and climb to the top of the hills or be timid and sit at the edge of the excitement waiting for the courage to join. Watching him run free was way more fun than having him toddle along holding my hand.
I guess the first 18 years of his life were the ones where he was learning to walk and now he is strong and ready to set off and take on the world on his own. And I get to watch.
I consider it an incredible blessing that I get to watch him grow into the young man that he is. Even though it is from a distance, I love celebrating with him as he becomes a more serious student, I listen as he expresses frustration with work, I am filled with joy as I watch him live big doing the things that he absolutely loves, and I do still cry and worry when he is going through difficult times. He isn't always making the decisions I want him to, but I am learning to sit on the proverbial park bench and wait...wait to see where the adventure takes him, wait for him to call for help, or wait to see the joy that comes when he decided to take the hard route but manages to get there eventually.
While I do still find so much joy in our long-distance relationship, nothing beats seeing him in person. I am blessed to be able to see him this week!
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