goodbyes

I hate saying goodbye to my children. It's always an inner struggle to balance the desire to tell them that they are two of the brightest lights in my life and avoid making them feel like I am clinging. They know I have my own happy life. They know I adore them. But still, I feel the tension. And deep sorrow at their leaving.

This was my daughter's first visit as a full-fledged vegetarian. I teased her about being Organic Girl and she retorted with mock annoyance, that's Organica, Mom. Her sense of humor is delightful and, in my always-ready opinion, revived. We ate relatively healthy, beautiful food. (Not overwhelmed by my traditional need to make dazzling side dishes and desserts in dazzling quantities. I worshipped at the feet of the culinary gods with some moderation.)

My son was his witty, warm self. Happy to be visiting friends and drinking at Rudz with his people. Ours has morphed over the years into a warm, comfortable mutual appreciation. He is a complex whirl of literature, commentary, riotous humor and remarkable self-love.

So, forgive a mother's effusiveness. I am so lucky to have two buzz-headed, richly-layered, quick-to-laugh human beings to call my offspring. And I miss them dearly.