I’m back. But only long enough to unpack, wash and repack bags.
I am in the house alone and the silence is deafening. I have gone from being surrounded by 11 members of my family to none and I hate it. We live on a flight path and this morning the planes were more than just a low-level annoyance, each time one flew overhead it felt like it was ripping through my heart. I couldn’t help visualising my children sitting excitedly in their seats on their plane bound for the States, looking through the list of films they want to watch.
They left last night and at my front door, as I said my goodbye’s my youngest one clung to me and sobbed and sobbed. I had to peel him off me and even when he was looking at me from the car I could see his shoulders moving up and down in great fits of misery and I had to stand glued to the spot, like a Steptford wife, waving them off with a smile that wouldn’t move and a throat so choked up with emotion that I almost couldn’t breath. Such was the effort to control that chink in my armour.
Ten minutes later he rang me and in his milk and honey voice that I am so going to miss he said “I’m alright now mum” and then I put the phone down and cried.
I HATE THIS BIT. They are away for two weeks on the most amazing trip. Of course this is all about me. I am jealous that I am not there. I want to be there to share all those experiences. Of course I hate being on my own. Of course I am crap at letting go of my children. Even as they left I had to phone just one more time and say to my ex that I didn’t think it was appropriate that he had bought the Russell Brand “Booky Wook” autobiography for our 12 year old daughter to read because it was full of explicit sex and drugs. Now I have to sign off my motherly duties and just hope and pray that they come back safely.
At least I’ve been in this situation enough times now to know what it’s like and how I react. That’s why, although it sounds ridiculously extravagant to be going away again, it is my way of dealing with the pain. I really can’t be in the house for that long on my own. I am flying to France to stay with some friends of mine for a week very early tomorrow morning and then going from there to Scotland to see some other friends. The first couple don’t have any children so it will be a very different experience from my two weeks in Menorca. I will have to remember to take the lice comb out of my make-up bag before I go.
Fat, frumpy and fifty...
August 3, 2008oh my!!! tears in my eyes, l really felt for you, your words were so raw. I imagine these scenario’s whenever a patch is hit and think no hold on to what you’ve got….
you are mazing to manage all this….just hold on…you are not alone, sharing your posts is amazing and helps many…if only yourslef…
if you need to chat email anytime..
family affairs
August 3, 2008Thank you very much fff – I am sure I will be fine once I set off again! Lx
ciara
August 3, 2008it's always hard letting the kids get on a plane and you not w them. i do it a few times a year and it's just to another state (to visit the ex). i cried the first time they had to fly by themselves…i've gotten a little used to it now, though i still feel miserable the first few weeks when they're gone. i'm sure your kids will come back safely.
france & scotland sounds fun, but then again, it's probably cuz i've never been. do you feel that sometimes it's hard to have something in common w those who don't have kids? i do at times.
A Mother's Place is in the Wrong
August 3, 2008Dear Lulu, that’s so hard, having to detach yourself from them so soon after your hols. They’ll be fine – and think how lovely it will be to see them again! M xx