Well, it wasn't that immediate. I arrived just before her flight was scheduled to land. I found a great seat at the front of the waiting lounge -- right where the big double security doors open to permit passage of customs-approved weary travellers. I entertained myself by people-watching, which is a very colorful activity in an international arrivals lounge! A few times, I imagined her coming through the doors and tears literally came to my eyes -- I was so moved by the inevitability. Then there she was -- all brown from the South African sun -- confidently pushing her luggage, confident that I would be there, waiting and watching for only her! What a sweet embrace. We held on to each other for quite a while -- but we weren't a spectacle. Everybody there was doing the same thing. I felt more whole than I have for a long time. Wow. It's really kind of difficult to express ... and then she was gone.
The older I get, the more fleeting these moments of pure bliss seem to be. When you live just about every moment of every day raising your babies -- toddlers -- school-agers -- even teenagers -- you get lots of these moments. Those affirmations that you are ALL THAT. I mean face to face affirmations. I am blessed to be the recipient of a plethora of appreciation and adoration -- from my kids and even their friends -- but mostly via some sort of social media or communicative device. That's why today was so very special. I got to touch her -- hold her! hear her voice, see her face, smell her scent -- and I became intoxicated by the essence of my daughter ... and then she was gone.
Such is the life of the empty-nester, you might say. I say that's bunk. Well, not entirely. Yes, the ideal scenario is that we raise our children to be independent, successful, happy young adults -- and I think that David and I have done that! and that brings me great joy -- however, I'm not "supposed" to be alone now. I'm supposed to be with him -- moving in a sort of rewind back to the days when it was just the two of us forging our life together, with our cat. Now it's JUST me, forging ahead with my dog. And one thing I know for certain, my pooch is feeling the fleeting'ness of life, too. What once was a somewhat bustling household is now a very quiet one -- with her holding down the fort, lonesomely awaiting just little old me to return to our threshhold each day that I leave for work or errands ... or fun. I know she's suffering from a degree of negligence and I do feel terrible about that! Then I think of what THIS old girl (me) has lost and I just scratch her ears and suggest that we continue to muddle-through together.
I have had a little too much of that fleeting'ness of life. Sometimes, when I'm out and about, I look at old people and wonder how they got old! I don't have many old people in my family. Considering that the only "dream" I could come up with when David asked me was growing old with him, you can imagine how I might resent those old people -- most particularly old couples. I don't want to go to parties or events and see all the happy couples. I don't like being alone. I hate it. Happiness has always been so fleeting for me. How unfair! So, as I watched my beloved daughter descend, once again, down the stupid airport escalator -- moving away from me -- dimming, and then extinguishing, her light from my parched space -- I felt a queer mixture of pride and that all too familiar sense of bereavement.
I know life is short and all of that crap, but I think I've really had an inordinate portion of it. I'm mean REALLY. This week (Thanksgiving) and about a month from now (Christmas) it gets really looming -- very in my face. People my age are joyfully planning and travelling to be with their PARENTS (Mamas) and even grandparents to fill the chairs around a large table to celebrate the many things for which they are thankful. This year, again, there will be a measely three at my table. Don't get me wrong, I'm enormously thankful for those two wondrous beings in attendance with me -- but sometimes we do feel like a sad little gathering. A couple years ago we stayed in Pennsylvania for a big family Thanksgiving dinner. It's not like we don't have lots of family -- we do. My sisters and I try to maintain that "la familia" thing, but it really is difficult without the cementing presence of parents.
David wrote (of course) about the fleeting nature of life. Ironically, he rather disagreed with what I'm talking about. Easy for him. He's not the one left behind! Okay, that was a little harsh. But here you go. In one of his trademark songs -- one of his survival anthems -- he wrote, "They say life is a terminal condition; That all who start must one day reach the end; That life is fragile and fleeting then forgotten; That age is cruel and youth is your only friend. But I can’t say that I care for that perspective. And if that’s what they believe, then for them it must be true. But as for me, I’ll go on believing in forever and I’ll try to make a difference while I’m here passing through because, don’t you know, I’m gonna’ live forever. I've got a home waiting for me up above. And as long as you keep these songs inside your heart, I'll live forever in that place we call love."
Hmmmm. Yes, I agree. I get that. You go! But youth!? Heck, I'm looking for a little OLD AGE. Mother dead at 47. Father dead at 58. Husband dead at 44. I WANT SOME OLD AGE! Life IS fleeting -- at least in MY story -- in my childrens' story. We are looking for some old age. Thank God, my children will be having dinner with their paternal grandparents a couple days before Thanksgiving. They live just up the road from their college. This is a true GIFT. But -- and I use that word hesitantly. David hated "but." He preferred "and," but it doesn't really work here and he's not here to disgree with me! so BUT! Then we come home to a house with no daddy. No husband. We will roast our tiny little turkey, make our half-recipe casseroles and love-on each other! We will speak of gratitude -- thankfulness -- for there really is a whole lot to be thankful for (for which to be thankful).
But our time together will be fleeting! My son will return to campus to finish his very first semester of college. My daughter's blessed time here at home with me will end when it's time for her to return to college. And pretty soon they'll be going out (further and further) into the big, wide, wonderful world -- shining their lights -- sharing their spirits -- living their own awesome lives. AND I will be here watching them -- swelling with a healthy pride, praying for their continued safety and GOOD HEALTH -- happiness -- joy. Waiting for them to return, from time to time, to this little cozy nest we call home until, one day, we are reunited with those saints whom we love in that place we call love. Personally, I hope that takes a good long time. I hope I get really OLD (hopefully not senile and crotchety) and offer an ample lap to at least a few grandchildren -- some good home cooking to a son-in-law and a daughter-in-law -- and clean sheets and soft beds for holiday visits.
I keep gazing at the picture I captured today of my sweet daughter as we stole a few precious moments in a noisy airport over a meal. Her smile speaks a lifetime of love. When we collided with each other at her arrival, she held onto me as desperately as I held onto her. I know she will always come home, even if it's just for a few fleeting moments. My heart is aching with longing tonight. BUT in just a few days, I will have both of my kids in MY car, in MY care, travelling down mountain roads toward OUR home where I will shower Thanksgiving upon them for a few days. Then our lives will diverge and resume. But Christmas is just a few weeks away!
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