Whenever my gramma would leave on a trip, she would call us each to her room, one at a time, and give us each a little gift. A "keepsake," she'd call it. To remember her by. And would roll my eyes and because I knew I wouldn't forget her before she came back. It never occured to me that she thought she might not see us again.
I am leaving on a trip tomorrow. Thanks to the miracle of pre-posting, I'll be back by the time you read this. But as I write, departure is set for tomorrow.
I've been looking forward to this trip for months. Steve and I are going to Vegas. We plan on having some fun, and spending some time together without the kids. Which is good. This is what the trip is for, really.
The trouble is... I am suddenly feeling not so fun. I don't feel excited and happy, I feel sad and aprehensive. Not only because I don't fly as much these days, and not because each time I do I end up stranded in Chicago. Because I am going to miss my kids.
I know, I know, stop groaning. I know they will be fine. Lillian will be in charge, and the kids love her. She is responsible. And we will only be gone for a few days. But I am dragging my feet about leaving. I am suddenly balking at the idea of being apart from them for days. And I suddenly have an urge to give them something. Something to hold onto, so they will know I love them when I'm gone.
2 comments:
I think they know.
And you're back!! It's like you were never gone! Except now I bet you're loaded because you won big time in Vegas!
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