There are two lasting bequests we can give our children. One is roots. The other is wings. ~Hodding Carter, Jr.
I think I’ve done a pretty good job on both counts.
On Saturday, Feb 2, Naomi and Dane drove away to start their new life in the San Francisco Bay area. Ruth, of course, moved there several years ago. Others who have spread their wings, but not flown quite so far include Rachel in Kansas City, Rinnah and Esther in St. Louis, and of course Nathan who has been half way around the world and back with the Army and is currently in Texas at Ft. Hood. All of them make a huge effort to be here together at least once a year (usually more often), on Thanksgiving. Their roots ARE here at “home” but their wings have taken them on to lives of their own making… which is how it should be.
I was going to say that as Naomi and Dane drove away I felt a little melancholy… but that’s not true. I misunderstood that word until I looked it up and found that it meant sad, depressed, miserable, downhearted, glum, low, down in the dumps. No that was not at all how I felt. I didn’t feel any of that. I thought that “melancholy” described just sort of a blah or slight empty feeling, but not a negative one.
Yes, I had sort of a blah, empty feeling which was mostly the selfish realization that I wouldn’t be seeing them as often. BUT it was mingled with excitement for the two of them, and the knowledge that they were doing what kids are supposed to do… grow up and get on with their lives in the best way they can figure out. Dane has an exciting career ahead of him and a wonderful opportunity with a great company. Naomi, being the people-person that she is, will surely run into even more people who will be able to help her along with her music. Both of them will be adding experiences and knowledge to their lives that will continue to define who they are. That’s called growth and it’s a good thing.
I’m sure I’ll be talking to them fairly often on the phone and especially on the internet. Physical distance isn’t nearly the divide it used to be in the past.
I will miss seeing (and hugging) them but I know they’ll be back. Their roots are here.