Later this afternoon, JT heads out with his other mother on a vacation trip to Iceland. That’s far away, involving planes and driving in a foreign country, in a land where he doesn’t speak the language. My head knows this kind of adventure is a good and happy thing for him. My heart is all, “planes and driving in a foreign country, in a land where he doesn’t speak the language….” and then a kind of panic sets in and I repeat the mantra that “it will all be okay.”
Long ago, I made my peace with JT being away every-other-weekend. But the whole “away for 10 days” deal twists my heart each year. Tomorrow, he flies to Iceland for his adventure. He doesn’t come back to me until the following Sunday. I’ll miss him something fierce.
I’ve got plans, of course. I’ll make a trip with T, go to work, do some house projects, play in my garden, read some books, and otherwise live my life. I’ll laugh and have a good time. But at the end of the day, when Lucy the cat gives me a plaintive look that says, “bring my boy home,” I’ll know just how she feels. That boy and his smile are the center of our world, even if he is loud, hungry, and sometimes smelly.
Travel safe, sweet boy. Your mama misses you already.
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