Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around. From the movie, Love ActuallyI provide todays quote in honour of my eldest daughter Alexis. She leaves today. Leaves to go back to the city she's moved to where she is creating the life of her dreams.
It is a poignant farewell.
When she left in November, we knew she was coming home for Christmas. Now, there is no return date. No 'oh, it's only 5 or 6 or 10 weeks before you come home.' Now, she is going and her life is unfolding over there, somewhere else, somewhere far enough away I just can't hop in my car and drop over for a visit.
We had a dinner for her last night. For her and her sister, Liseanne, who leaves on January 21 for a semester at a university in Holland. Their 'other parents', my friends, Al and Jane were there to wish both girls adieu. Al and Jane's daughter, CJ is Alexis' roommate in Vancouver.
As we sat around the dinner table, four adults and eight twenty-somethings, Jane mentioned a conversation with a friend who is a psychologist. "I was telling her about my meltdowns," Jane said. "I am so sad about CJ's moving, I cry alot. She told me it was natural. I felt so much better."
My friend looked at me and smiled. A couple of weeks ago we'd been chatting about the girls moving and I had mentioned that while I'm sad, I'm also conscious of the fact to cry would be to burden Alexis with my feelings before she leaves -- and she needs my support, my unwavering belief in her and her ability to make her dreams come true. I can cry once she's gone. I can miss her once she's away. But while she's here, I need to share my strength.
Alexis sat at the other end of the dining room table and looked at me. "I know my mom will cry," she said. "I also know she hasn't quite gotten her head around the fact I'm going."
I laughed. "So true. I take awhile to process things. I don't want to miss you until you're gone."
Alexis leaves this morning.
"Would you mind if I asked dad to take me to the airport?" she asked two days ago. "He'll probably say no, but..."
"Ask him," I told her. "You don't know what he'll say until you ask. Why not give him a chance to say yes?"
He said yes.
I think about that this morning. Not being at the gate to see her walk through Security. Not being able to give her one last farewell. One last hug. To let her see me shed a tear, or two as she walks away through the gate.
Airport hellos. Goodbyes. Adieus. Farewells.
And everyone of them surrounded by a light of love, of longing, of yearning, of 'see you soon'.
We don't have a 'see you soon' on our horizon. Think I'll have to make one.
Liseanne leaves on January 21. Until then, I need to stay focused on enjoying every last moment of Liseanne's presence here.
And until I see Alexis the next time, I shall carry her in my heart, where she's always lived, where she's always belonged, where she's always at home within me.
The one's we love are never really gone. They're just away from our homes and always at home in our hearts.
4 comments:
I just watched Love Actually this weekend, again. I love the movie.
I'm sorry your heart is sad, but also know that it is happy for your girls and so very proud of them. I know my nani (mother's mother) felt the same when my mom left India for England many years ago. The difference then was that phone calls weren't as easy or inexpensive, there wasn't email, Skype or iChat. Flights were not as affordable and people had to use snail mail and just hope for a chance to get a snippet of contact.
Hold tight to all of the options you have to keep in contact with them and still contribute easily to their lives and be present.
Be well,
Storm
Hello Storm!
Sad heart. And, Happy heart. That is the duality of farewell -- so happy she is moving forward into her dream...
My mother never really recovered from leaving her mother and father in India. Back then, even phone calls weren't possible and letters were slow. She still carries the sorrow and the loss within her heart. Perhaps it is why I do not give into the sorrow and move lovingly into the joy of knowing what amazing young women my daughters are to have the courage to pursue their dreams.
Hugs to you!
Be well.
Louise
louise
there is only one - just one - error in your beautiful piece
you said four adults + 8 twenty somethings . .
the toughest transition we make is from having adult-child relationships to having adult-adult relationships . . with our children
it seems you've made that transition
so . .I think there were 12 adults around the table
we all have different paths to walk; they are going off to walk theirs ... and you get to walk yours - as we all do, alone
alone with purpose
alone with clarity
alone with ourselves
alone is the only way we see clearly, and clearly it is sometimes lonely
and we grow
big hugs,
Mark
Reading your post, I think of when I said goodbye to my son going off to New York, and now four years later, with college graduation coming up, hearing him tell me at Christmas that he wants to stay in the City, that that's his home now. And also hearing him tell me that he's happy our relationship is good, that we can talk now (and oh how he talks now). And I nodding and fighting back the tears and letting him go, because letting him go, to be who he is, is what we mothers do in loving our children. I need that "See you soon."
Hugs and love.
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