Easter Week-end

Seven years ago this March my daughter K was in her final semester at Russell Sage College in Troy, NY. She was driving home for spring break when she was involved in an accident that totalled her car. As soon as we got the news, Ken drove the three hours to get her. Thankfully she was released from the hospital to continue out-patient treatment from home. At the time our son T was in 8th grade. Our son P was in his first year at Wentworth in Boston, and I still have the email he sent when he learned his big sister was okay. P wanted to see for himself, so when classes were finished for the week he took a bus home. As a family we celebrated all we had to be grateful for. Then we took a family road trip. The first stop was Boston, where we spent hours walking the streets of the city before we left P at his dorm. K was okayed to return to school, so our next stop was Troy, where we spent the night with friends before we left K to finish her last semester.

That story came to mind yesterday and has stayed with me. That's how our family has always handled things ~ together.

This year for Easter Ken and I decided to spend the week-end in Boston. T is in school there, P is living and working there, and K is working nearby for a few weeks. Boston is a three-hour drive and we often will go just for the day. This time we stayed at a hotel so we had plenty of time to visit....

I discovered early on with my children that "quality time" is a myth. It's the quantity of time that matters because you never know when the "quality" moments will take place. You can't force conversations into time slots; you need time to think and process and share. My mother's intuition has been on high alert for weeks. It's not been so much what has been said as what hasn't been said. I knew we needed time together as a family.

Saturday morning we met P and his finance C for breakfast. I instinctively knew what question to ask to get right to the heart of that matter: Had C heard from graduate schools? Yes, and she is planning to attend graduate school on the west coast, starting in September.

My heart sank. This means that P will be moving, too.

P is a planner. This explains all the wedding planning well ahead of time and the absence of any mention of looking for an apartment when his lease is up in May.

I have known something was amiss, but the knowledge has stayed below the surface. Self preservation at work, I'm sure.

I am embarrassed to say that Ken and I are some of the last to find out. P said he wanted to tell us in person but hasn't been able to make the trip to Maine. I think it was too hard to say the words. He knows how it feels to be just hours away, able to be with family when he wants to see us, when he needs to know we are there for him. He knows we know that feeling, too.

I tried to avoid writing this post, but I can't. This is all I've thought about since Saturday morning. I thought maybe writing it down would help me make some sense out of the news, which became more real when I talked to my friend in town and my mom.

There are people who will not understand the deep sadness I feel. I know people who agreed when their children wanted to attend college far away from home. I have friends who have moved across the country from their children; that was their choice, and they have made that arrangement work for them. It's very different when that is the last thing you want....

My heart says that maybe I will wake up from this dream. Or maybe something will change.

My mind says different. I know bargaining won't work, and I can't match what has already been offered. I've never been one to whine or nag or use guilt, and I'm not about to start now.

My children are individuals who live their own lives. The problem, for me, is that my children are my favorite people and the people I most want to spend time with. That makes it very hard to be the one left behind....