I don't want to see you again!

The Back Story

It is very hard for me to let my children go; to silently sit by as they leave. It hurt when Bonnet moved out of the house eight years ago, even though she still lived relatively close by. But I cried off and on for months while I adjusted to her absence in my life.

Over the next few years I became more accustomed to our new relationship. Still my daughter, still much loved, but only in my company once a week or so. A level of comfort was achieved and there was no sadness at the end of our visits.

Then she moved to Colorado. I'm lucky if I get to see her once or twice a year now; and it hurts. I've adjusted to her absence on a day-to-day bases. But when I do visit with her, the leave-taking is devastating. When the last visit ended, I couldn't even drive her to the airport I was so upset. Hell, I didn't even let her get out of the house before I was crying like a baby -- and I know what a baby cries like!

With Tori, it's been a little easier. I'd already been through one child leaving, and oddly, that made Tori's move to San Marcos easier. Still sad. I helped her pack her stuff and hauled it to the dormitory for her. And for the four years she attended college I would see her 3-4 times a month. She'd visit, I'd drive over for lunch, etc.

The Issue

Tori is moving to San Angelo, about four hours away, for a job. It is definitely closer than Colorado (which for some odd reason EVERYONE feels the need to point out), but realistically, I don't expect to see her often. I don't even make it to Brady, my home town, which is only two hours away but once or twice a year. I'm planning on driving down for a visit every 4-6 weeks, but there is a part of me that expects there will always be something getting in the way of those visits.

This Week


This is Tori's last week in town, she leaves tomorrow.

Monday: I had lunch with her, our goodbye meal. I cried off-and-on all last weekend just thinking about her being gone. Monday was sad and I tried very hard not to share my unhappiness, but I cried all the way home from San Marcos.

Tuesday: Tori had testing in Austin and when she called me with the results we decided on an impromptu lunch. The boys and I met her for lunch and it was bitter sweet. Once again I was swamped with the knowledge this would be the last time I'd see her before she left town. The last time the three children would have lunch. I pondered how little she'd be involved in Linden's life. I battled sadness and tears that afternoon.

Thursday: Lew, my father-in-law, calls to let me know he and his wife, Dona, are taking Tori to lunch on Friday and wants to know if I can make it. Of coarse I can. But I spend the rest of the evening thinking about how sad it's going to be to see her.

Friday: Tori stops by and we ride over to lunch together. After lunch we do a few errands and stop back by the house. By the time she leaves I'm crying so hard I can't even tell her goodbye. I don't tell her anything ... trying to keep it together and not make it harder for her. The rest of my day is shot.

Saturday: At a family get-to-gather, Lew hands me a coat for Tori. She's leaving Sunday, but it would be a shorter drive for her to drop by our house to pick it up, as opposed to driving out to Lew's. I don't need glasses to see the writing on the wall, her stopping by on her way out of town would devastate me.

The Happy Ending

As it happens, my brother will be visiting tomorrow and he will be heading right back to where Tori will be. So I called Tori and asked her if it would be okay if I just gave the coat to Jessy and she could pick it up for him.

"Yes!" she replied, sounding incredibly relieved.
"That would be perfect.
I've already said bye to you like four times this week!"

I laughed.
"Yeah, I don't want to see you again either!"


Oddly, for the first time all week, I can smile about her departure.