Coming Home

When was the last time I was moved to tears by something beautiful?

Yesterday.

It was an airport moment. Saw my son walking down the corridor. (This after direction from my youngest son who said, “Mom don’t you see him? There he is!” My eyes aren’t what they used to be.) The son who was abroad from January to the end of May and then living outside of NYC from the end of May until now. The son who has pushed himself so hard that I’ve been concerned about the effect of the stressors on him. The son who finished a project the day before and could finally exhale and feel a sense of accomplishment over a job well done. Feel as though he has been running a marathon for 8 months, and he’s finally home for a few days, able to breathe, able to be around his family who can’t wait to see him. Yes, I was moved to tears by the beauty of knowing that for awhile, a very short while, I will have all of my kids home, under one roof, safe and sound.

We moms, we have to do that constant dance of holding on and letting go, don’t we? In my world of being a mom of kids in their teens and twenties, I’ve had a lot of letting go going on. It felt so good to see him down the corridor, rush to him with tears falling down my cheeks, and hold on for a few moments. Yes, I will hold on to my kids when I can, and I hope when it is necessary to let go, that they always remember the holding on. This is the kind of beauty that brings tears of joy and sadness at the same time.