My parents went back to Oregon today; I took them to the airport at 4:45 this morning. And I am exhausted, but not from lack of sleep. We had a fantastic visit though uneventful. That is the best kind of visit! Mostly we shopped and talked and ate. We did a lot of eating. With celebrating two birthdays in one week (Poetroad's on Tuesday and my mom's on Saturday), I ate two month's worth of cake, ice cream, and miscellaneous junk food in this week alone.
The truly exhausting part of the week, however, was enduring the goodbyes from last night. I think I forgot how attached my children are to my parents - for which I am sincerely grateful, but that fact makes saying goodbye all the more difficult. The 6 year old was sobbing her eyes out. So was the 12 year old. And the 9 year old. And the three year old was just saying, "But I don't want you to go, Grandpa."
And then my dad lightened the mood by making fart sounds. Thank goodness for potty humor!
Still, the 12 year old left this note on the steering wheel of my car so I could read it as I took my parents back to the hotel that evening: "I hate Texas. We never get to spend any holidays with our grandparents any more and we don't get to see them every day." Rip my heart out!
Today, I miss my mom and dad very much and I am glad for that. I could have had really crappy parents; I got the opposite of crappy - and if you knew the odds they had to overcome in order to be kind, loving, and caring people, you would understand the miracle that, unfortunately, I often loose sight of in the daily grind of life.
Texas makes the heart grow fonder.
3 weeks ago
1 comment:
I hear ya. Every time we go to visit my folks back where I grew up we have a similar experience. The boys don't cry so much, but the grandparents and MD do. It's a regular blubberfest.
And I totally get what your 12 year old wrote.
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