You'd think Smythe Oregon would be closer to Seattle. (aka The Reunion)

I haven’t seen Bitchy for 10 months.  

That’s ten WHOLE months! 

Remember when she moved back in with me after college and we were like Felix and Oscar? Remember when I was calling her “grandma” because she was going to bed at nine, staying in on the weekends and going grocery shopping every Sunday with her mother?  Remember when I had her bags packed even when I had no idea she was moving anywhere?

Some of you might recall that her knight in shining armor flew across the country, bundled her up into her white Honda and rode off into the sunset; far, far AWAY into the sunset, the sunset that sets on the west coast of the country in Seattle, Washington.  While this was quite a happy day for everyone involved (especially her mother), it has been (SURPRISINGLY) incredibly difficult to be that far away from my firstborn.

I’ve never understood how parents can beg or plead for their child to live at home or near home when there is a whole world out there for them to explore.  It never felt right to me to ever question my children about where they should live OR work.  I think that we each have a path to follow and that it’s important to not impede your child’s journey by imposing a selfish wish upon them.  I’m just sayin’. 

HOWEVER, it certainly has been a bit harder than I expected. 

Nevertheless, my knight in shining armor decided that we both needed to see Bitchy, and arranged for us to fly out there for a trip at the end of June. I’ve been blown away by our trips to Las Vegas, The Cayman Islands, Florida and the wine country.  But this trip, this one to visit a part of my heart, well I have no words to adequately describe my gratitude.

We flew first class (Who knew?  WHO KNEW?  People, they practically wash your hands and give you a massage on the trip.) and it was crazy.  Did you know that the first thing you do when you board first class on a trip across the country is order your four course meal? THEN you get to enjoy some drinks while waiting for all things spectacular.

But I digress.

After a day long adventure with buses, planes and automobiles, we finally made our way to their apartment.  We parked and walked up the steps and saw them waiting for us.  I walked towards her smiling and we wrapped our arms around each other. I laughed and smiled at first, but couldn’t stop hugging her.

Then as I was holding my girl in my arms I started to cry. It started quite unexpectedly and quickly turned into ugly sobbing.  You know the kind, the sobbing that ends in those weird hiccupy things.

“OMG, mom! Are you crying?” I heard her ask as I clung to her.  I nodded my head and kept my arms around her. “You are hysterical,” she laughed, all the while allowing me to cling to her like a drowning woman.

I finally composed myself and we walked into their place arm in arm.  I couldn’t explain to her what had happened, because I wasn’t quite sure myself.  But what I wanted to say- what I should have said, was this.  A child holds a huge part of a parent’s heart. That heart is never quite the same until that child is back in their arms.  

And so that ugly crying?  That was my heart weeping for joy.