I just spent the weekend with my son. While he seems to be adjusting extremely well to the distance between us, saying goodbye to him on a Sunday evening is NOT getting any easier.
I’m adjusting to the distance okay, sure. Living with Sunshine and her girls is a blessing…I truly feel like we’re a happy family when we’re together. And my son and I have a great time when we’re together, too. So it’s not like I’m regretting my decision to move in any way at all.
It’s just when I’m cleaning up on a Sunday afternoon. Both he and I are counting down the minutes until he goes back to his mom’s. For him, though, there is excitement because he’s anxious to see his cat and his dog and his mom. His time with me is over and he’s ready to get back to his “normal” life. Maybe he’ll be more sad as he grows older…I don’t know.
But for me, it’s tough. It’s gut-wrenching every time I say that final goodbye, get into my car, and start making my way down the street. It’s at that exact moment that I feel like I can’t keep doing this. But after a few minutes, the feeling begins to go away a bit in the knowing that my family is waiting for me at home.
My son is in great hands with his mom…he and I are getting along fine with video chats during the week…the distance really doesn’t seem that bad most of the time.
It’s just that initial “driving away” stage. That’s brutal and I don’t see it getting any easier as time goes on. Thankfully, it really does help me appreciate the time that we spend together. Our time is special and it’s precious and I cherish every moment that we have. He knows that…and that’s all that matters.
