Addison sarcastically commented when I snapped this photo of her on the Ubahn that she could see me using this photo on a blog when she was gone.  Well, she was right!  Here it is ... Addie!

There is a popular phrase roaming around the Internet on Pinterest and Face Book that says:  "Don't cry because it's over.  Rejoice that it happened in the first place."   I'm not heeding the anonymous authors' advice. I'm crying because it's over.  I need to cry because it's over.  It's healthy to cry because it's over.

Today, as that grown up girl of mine headed out the door to catch her plane to fly to another continent that she calls "home", I cried because it was over.  I've cried all throughout the day ... because it's over.

I keep asking myself why I am crying and then I remember her sweet face as she woke up every morning stumbling into whatever room I was in, leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.  I am gonna miss that face - or ...

I cry when I see her PJ's laying in the empty drawer ... ones she left behind for the next visit ...whenever that might be.  She told me they were "granny" PJ's and we laughed over the fact that every time they were washed, the bottoms kept getting shorter and shorter.  I am gonna miss that cute little laugh - or ...

I cry when I hear the songs she downloaded on my playlist on my computer.  We'd listen to these songs as we played a perpetual game of Backgammon.  I'd hear her precious voice harmonize to everything from Jack Johnson to Sons and Daughters.  I am gonna miss her harmony.

Despite the tears that have trickled in random cycles throughout the day down my face and soiled my makeup way too many counts to count, I'm also rejoicing that it happened in the first place!!  I'm rejoicing that my grown up girl was home for 5 weeks ... occupying the same air that I breathed ... drinking from her favorite coffee cup ... sleeping on pallets on the floor with her sisters ... giving out fashion advice to her poor ol' Mom ... riding in the same Ubahn and making silly faces across the aisle ... going with me to the grocery store because she can ... staying up late to watch a movie ... just ... being ... together.  Together in the same space.  Priceless.

It is more and more evident that I have joined the ranks of others ... those parents who parent from far away ... less involved in the day to day events of their children ... because their children are adults ... operating on their own ... and needing little from us ... us the parents ... who serve another role.

This parting is tough.  This parting makes me want to run home to my own parents, hug their necks, and tell them I now know how it feels.  This parting makes me ever so thankful for another place and time that is to come ... this place being prepared for me and others like me ... who have put their lives record into the hands of an Almighty God.  This parting makes me long for this place of no more parting ... ever.

This hurting will soften.  Tomorrow another week will unfold.  I will dig into the "normal" and long-distance phones calls with my girl will replace the daily conversations.  I may shed the occasional tear at the thought of a past memory ... but more often I will rejoice at the relationship that has moved into a new phase.

For all who've gone before me ... Oh, how I respect the road you've traveled.  For all who have yet to walk this road ... bless you.

singing my membership card,
christina

I love the sun.  I love it most when I am in it.  Living in a grey city most of the time, the sun has become something I long for ... really!

I never was an advocate of the sun.  I mean I liked it and all ... I just never really put any value in or on it ... until I began to live without it.  That's when I realized the importance, the worth, the benefit and the need I have of this ball of fire packed with vitamin D!

Just like the sun, I think I pretty much long for anything I don't have.  I long for short hair now that my hair is long.  I long for bread now that I am gluten intolerant.  I long for long conversations with my mom now that she lives in heaven.  I long for short trips through the drive-through ... any drive-through ... now that I don't have one (OK, there is McDonald's but they are pretty few and far between.)  I long for the days that my girlie's were babies now that they are grown up.  I long for a route 44 Diet Coke from Sonic with lots of ice now that Diet Coke makes me sick and I live in a land of no ice in soda's.  I long for time to stand still since I have one of my fledglings getting ready to fly the coop.  I long for nights to be longer now that hormones interfere with good sleep.  I long for a size 8 jeans now that I ... wear a different size. 

Yep.  Longing.  As I get older, I find myself longing for a place to call home.  I love my home but am reminded all too often that it isn't the place I was made for ... and I feel the effects of that alienation all to plainly.  When I don't feel like I fit in, look cute, know enough, am competent enough ... I can feel that longing creep in.  It's not escapism.  It's hope in a reality that will one day take place.

In the meantime ... I look through pictures of short hair cuts, drool over bread, and complain about no ice ... while trying to be mature enough to remember that longing needn't be bad when I long for the right thing.

We are the Queens of Self"ies"!!

My oldest is preparing for flight.  Friends have inquired about my heart.  It's always the build up that is worse than the actual event.  Right now, I try not to live in the build up ... just live in the right now.

This first-born, leader type of mine occupies a lot of my thoughts.  When she is sick, I think about who will care for her when she's sick in the future.  When she calls me and asks me to meet her for coffee, I think about how long it will be ... and how far away I'll be ... to drop everything and share some Java with my girl.

I know this child.  I know her heart.  I know that in her innermost being, she has made a commitment to follow this Jesus ... just as I have.

When the tears come ... from projecting way too far in the future ... I cling to a promise.  Jesus said that He was gonna go and prepare a place for me.  This place is for me ... and for my Addie ... and for others who have made a commitment to follow Him.  When life is over as we know it ... that's where we will be.

I don't find myself longing for heaven.  I don't know how I feel about that ... if I should ... if I should be worried that I don't.  What I do long for ... is no more pain ... no more tears.  I do long for a day where living with no more goodbyes will be a reality.