A sense of loss
We will go see Grandma T. today. At 94, she lives in a care-facility. Last furlough she was still at home, able to make cookies and tell us where the drinks were, show us pictures and explain long-ago faces to us. Though her mind is still sharp, her vision has dimmed. She is frail, unable to get around.
Nephew B. couldn’t even talk when I saw him last. Now he plays baseball and loves donut holes and hits golf balls. And Niece C. could say just two words on her last visit. Now she is almost 5, can talk your ear off and swim like a fish. Though M. and R. haven’t changed much in 18 months, they’ve grown up and gotten more fun with each visit.
Nephew E. is six weeks old. He may have smiled at Wife and me the other day but I’m not sure. Next time we see him he will be hitting baseballs and eating donuts and whacking golf balls. Maybe even swimming like a fish. And he’ll have 2 new cousins.
The most difficult thing about being away is the sense of loss. You miss out on people growing up and growing older. Missed events and missed experiences. I guess, just a sense of loss.
August 16th, 2006 at 7:01 pm
Separation from those we love is never easy. All the more reason that you and your family deserve all the support and admiration that can be mustered. You have mine.
August 16th, 2006 at 11:24 pm
One of the good things of this modern technological age is that we can make up in some ways for the distance.
August 19th, 2006 at 6:05 am
My greatest regret, possibly my only regret, of moving my family from Alabama to Florida and then California is the loss of connection with family.