A confession
I moved to California when I was 17; this August, I’ll have been here 19 years. I’ve never felt a desire to go home. Like many who moved to Southern California, I feel no great love for the place, but I’ve built a life here, a rich life, and home is, after all, where the heart is.
Never, that is, until yesterday. When my sister gave birth to second daughter and I was here and she was there. The first time around, she lived close, or close enough, a car’s drive away. I could be there, could help, could do.
Yesterday, we talked by phone and she sounded wonderful, much more vibrant, confident, in charge than the first time around. And yet, for me, there was a tinge of the bittersweet. My arms felt empty knowing that it would be November until I got to meet Tess (and I am scared to death of babies, not one of those who loves to hold every any infant they come across).
Happy (belated) birthday, Tess. Welcome to the family.
I’m hating that DW, PL and I won’t get to see The Youngling until September at.the.earliest, too. This long-distance auntie thing is for the birds!
BIG HUGS!
So know what that is like, being that we are always far away from those we care about the most.
Congratulations to your sister and family! How wonderful that it was easier this time around! Tess … I love it!
I just got back to life enough to read this and am fighting back tears. Things are much easier this time around and yet there is a bit of a void knowing that Tess and I won’t be following you and James around on outings, attending (his) sporting events, and being part of each other’s everyday life. Sharing Mia’s early life with you made the experience so much richer for my entire family. Love you.