I hurt.
A piece of me is gone.
I don't like this feeling.
My body is tearing away. Piece by piece.
Leaving holes.
That's what it feels like as my children leave. Like a part of my physical being is gone.
What do I do now?
Part of me is elsewhere. I am torn.
I am not a whole. I have a hole.
I am assuming... I am told...
Eventually the hole will heal. It will close and heal over.
Filling with other things. Other people.
But all I can do for now is ache.
Go through the motions of my day.
Being reminded periodically of the absence.
The ache swells.
Swells and subsides.
The dance of parenting continues.
Holding tight and letting go.
To their rhythm.
Not mine.
Let them go.
Let them grow.
I have to.
Give up that piece of me. Let it go.
Accept the void. Look for ways to fill it.
Turn the hole back into a whole.
It's been a long time.
A fantastic, fun journey that we traveled and figured out together.
Doing the dance.
All together we were the whole.
Moving in step.
This is just another part of the dance.
Inevitable.
They are ready to grow up so I need to as well.
Ready or not.
But for now...
I ache.
