Thanksgrieving

Sigh.

I’m home.

It’s over.

I’ve been pumped for months about going to see my sister in Washington over Thanksgiving and it’s over already.

We had so much fun!

We shopped, cooked, exercised, stayed up late and talked and talked, and ate and ate. We went to movies, watched movies and football on the couch, and ate and ate.

My brother-in-law hated me for commandeering his wife.

When I gave him a hug to say good-bye I said jokingly, “Now you can have your wife back.”

He said with a forced smile, “Okay.”

Punk.

He’s spoiled. She’s a good wife and takes good care of him so I understand why he would feel the void, but he gets her all the time. I get to see her two times a year, maybe!

Now we’re back to occasional phone calls and texting in-between running the details of our families’ lives.

When we were living under the same roof as sisters we fought like dogs. Now we’re best friends, but live so freakin’ far from each other!

It’s not fair.

It’s the same thing with my kids. The older they get, the more fun they are—the more like friends they are because we have so much more in common now. We can talk about music, movies, people, politics, life, and so on.

After all those years of Barney and Barbies, terrible twos and tantrums, potty training and preschool, now my kids are actually quite interesting and fun to be around, but they are less and less around.

And they’ll be leaving me soon.

My oldest graduates from high school this year.

I don’t know where life will take her, but near or far, she’ll never really be all mine again.

I’m sure someday I’ll hug my son-in-law after a holiday visit and say, “Now you can have your wife back,” and he’ll force a smile and say, “Okay.”

Punk.

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