My dad holds my head, talks close to my ear of being intentional, keeping in touch. Funny that my grandpa, my dad's dad, had similar words for me one week prior.
My mom holds me as Evee tugs on my hand. I sink into her and let myself cry harder. I can't help but wonder if I will be sending Evee or Iris off one day too, possibly taking with them my own grand babies.
Regina and I hold each other tight and cry, not knowing when we'll see each other again...but inside I hope that she will soon join us. But, I cry anyway, because I don't know. And that's just it...there is a lot of unknown.
These are the final three goodbyes in a long line that have, in some ways (the best of ways), consumed our past five weeks or so (among many other things).
The three that watched us walk through the security at LAX. And it is hard. Hard to say goodbye. And I'm not good at it, though I have no idea what a "good goodbye" looks like.
And we travel some more, say hello. Taking in a new reality each step of the way.
And we are now very close to arriving "home" and I feel good and that makes me happy.
Soon these posts will change from sadness/goodbyes/transition. Thanks for bearing with me.
