I miss my kid. It doesn’t matter that he’s almost 32 years old, married, and has been living 2,000 miles away for nearly nine years. I miss my kid. We generally manage to see one another at least four or five times a year. His dad and I get on a plane or the kid stops by here on what we affectionately refer to as a “fly-by.” He comes through town on his way to or from a business trip. We get to see each other pretty frequently really.
And why I’m whining I’ll never know because I talk to him almost daily thanks to free long distance on cell phones, plus we email, IM, Skype, and if I texted, we’d probably be texting, too. He and his wife are great about keeping us up-to-date on their lives so far away with FaceBook posts and pictures attached to emails. We got to participate when they bought their house, when they adopted our grand-dog, Lily, when they redid the yard, repainted the walls, and bought new furniture. We got to ooh and ahh over the new car and there’s nothing more fun than talking to Lily on Skype. A baffled Golden Retriever is a hoot—I hear grandma and grandpa, so why can’t they pet me?
My ancestors would smack me upside the head—a hundred years ago, when a child moved so far away from home, chances were you’d never see them again. Mail delivery was iffy, planes were a whole new concept, trains took a long time and were very expensive. I have no idea at all when long distance telephone service started—I should Google that, I guess. But, comparatively, I’ve got it made.
So lately, why am I feeling sad after I talk to him? Why do I want to cry when I look at the myriad pictures I have of him on my computer? Why do I have this ache that won’t go away when I think of him, which of course, is at least ten times a day? Very simply, because I need to hug my kid. My tolerance for lack of hugs from him is about three months and I’ve passed that now. So I need that physical connection. It’s purely a mom thing—when you grow another person in your body for almost a year and then nurture that person to adulthood, you get attached. Sometimes, I just need a giant hug from my son and a couple of days to look at his face and marvel.
He’ll be coming by home soon, and his dad and I can spoil him and hug him and stare at him all we want for a few days. We’ll be heading out there soon to spend time talking endlessly, playing with Lily, enjoying time with him and our sweet daughter-in-law, cooking wonderful meals, and drinking great wine. It’s going to be all good…but right now, I miss my kid.