I knew my heart would feel this…and it did.

Sunday marked one week since the boys left for California. 

I really debated whether or not to write about how I’ve felt since they left, but in the end, I realized I needed to get it out on “paper.”

The day they left was the hardest day I’ve faced in a while.  Knowing they wouldn’t be close enough to drive for a visit has been quite sobering. 

Then it was Monday.

When I woke up, the weight of it all crashed in from the time I opened my eyes.  My boys.  My young men.  The guys who tease me and have lunch dates with me were two thousand miles away.  And they weren’t just on a trip; they were heading to establish their lives there. 

 Oh, how I projected.  I thought of friends I would never meet, girlfriends I wouldn’t know very well, eventually marriage, and grandkids that I would only see on FaceTime. 

I had it all mapped out, and I wasn’t part of any of it. 

It was not the life I had pictured for myself.

I dream of being the grandma who goes to the park, shows up for t-ball, and cheers from the stands with an embarrassing amount of gusto.  How could I do that if I’m a country away?!

And then it was Tuesday.

I found myself in the drive-through getting an iced coffee when one of Travis’s favorite songs came on the speaker.  I fought back tears as I ordered my ridiculously complicated coffee order. 

As I was grabbing a snack from the pantry, I noticed a box of Christian’s favorite protein bars, and emotion bubbled up before I could stop it.  It really is the little things that get to you. 

When Wednesday rolled around, I finally felt like I could put on some makeup without crying it off.   My friend and I deliver Meals on Wheels once a month, and honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to distract my heart.  It was such a fulfilling morning.

I am so grateful this happened exactly when it did.  If the boys had moved sooner, it would’ve been the dead of winter, and everything was so dead and gray.  But, mercifully, it was the tender beginnings of spring, so that I could see the renewal of life all around me. 

Right now, the tulips are blooming where I live, and the vibrant colors bring me joy. 

Grief comes in all shapes and sizes and for various reasons.  I’ve learned over the years not to try to avoid it or push it down in my heart, but rather to sit in it and allow it to wash through.  Once the initial pain passes and you can begin to see some light again, the sorrow won’t feel so heavy. 

And that’s what’s been happening to me over the last week and a half.

Each day, I slowly began to feel the light enter my soul. 

Another reason the beginnings of spring have been a blessing is that I can get outside and walk or work in the yard.  Who knew pulling weeds could be cathartic? 

 I’ve walked along the trail by my house that follows a creek several times; I’ve discovered a nature reserve with my daughter; I’ve walked a trail by local soccer fields with my husband. 

Being out in nature and feeling the sun shine on my skin has been like nourishment. 

By the time Thursday rolled around, I began to feel somewhat like myself again.  I still cried easily, but the peace of knowing they were doing exactly what they were supposed to do began to feel stronger than the sorrow. 

Friday, my husband took me downtown for the day and treated me to a fabulous lunch.  We walked across the suspended bridge and held hands as we reminisced about the years that had gone by so fast.  

Then it was the weekend, and as I walked into church on Sunday morning, I was very aware that exactly a week ago, I had left my boys at the airport to watch them take off for a brand-new life. 

I felt a lump in my throat as I entered the sanctuary. 

I also felt so held and loved.

So many of you have reached out to me as I enter into this new place of parenting. 

I want to thank each of you for the prayers and love. 

I told my good friend that I could literally feel the prayers holding me up. I can’t describe how that feels except to say I felt a deep abiding peace undergirding all the sadness.

Only God could do that.

At the end of Sunday service, we sang “The Goodness of God,” and the Lord began to put the smiling faces of people I love one after the other in my mind.  It played like a reel.  I was so emotional.

My life is good.

My sons are doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing.

I am carrying a sorrow that every parent carries at some point. 

Letting go is hard, but it is also a holy charge. 

And maybe this is what holy work looks like, sorrow and gratitude working in tandem.

Since they left, one or the other has called or texted every day.  How lucky am I?

They are doing great, by the way.

So far, they love Los Angeles.

They prayed for this opportunity, and God has provided. 

And now that I am a bit more recovered, I’m already thinking about a trip out west. I’ve heard a drive up the coast is amazing.

I hope to find out!