It's 2:23am and I'm having a serious cup of coffee. No messing around. I'm leaving in an hour with my husband to take my stepdaughter home. And then up to Tennessee for a much needed visit with Diahn.
And since it's 2:24am and I'm slightly delirious, I thought I'd share my epiphany with you. The one that I had at 11:30pm when I finally laid down to try and go to sleep. My daughters are out of town so I decided to sleep in Stevey's room last night, to could get away from the noise of the television that my husband sometimes watches until late at night, and that's when it hit me.
She's leaving in five short weeks.
My baby girl is moving out and moving on. And even though she'll come back for holiday breaks and summers, it'll never be the same. Even though I'm so proud of her that I'm practically bursting at the seams, it'll never be the same. I laid there in the dark, breathing in her "Stevey" smell from her pillows, looking around her room at her bulletin board, her paintings and her clutter of clothes scattered around the room, and started to grieve.
And I still can't stop crying.
I'm sure it'll get easier with time. I'd rather get most of it out now than later when I'm helping her unpack at her new apartment. I seriously hate goodbyes. I'd rather stick hot pokers in my eyes than say goodbye. I don't like to get that emotional in front of people and nothing gets me more emotional than saying goodbye. I know, I know...it's not a permanent goodbye.
But to my mother's heart, it sure feels like it.