Gravity of Goodbye
We are down to measuring in weeks.
We measured in months, but now that there are only two months left until the twins go, we’re measuring in weeks. Soon, we will be measuring in days. And then hours. Minutes. Seconds.
No, I couldn’t write that without crying.
The closer the day gets, the harder it gets. It feels like the goodbye has its own gravity, like a massive planet that looms larger as I move closer, making my body slow down and feel heavy. I can’t move off this path; time is magnetic. So I have to stare at it in front of me as weeks turn into days, which turn into hours.
4 comments
Holding space for your hurting heart during this time. I know I will feel the same.
<3
There is nothing anyone can say that will make this easier. I’m experiencing small pangs after leaving I. at Pratt this week, because I can feel how I’m losing him.
I love you and will be here to keep holding you.
I wish I could make you feel better, but I know you’re just going to have to tough it out. I hope the days, minutes, and hours are as long as when they were surly infants whose needs you could neither understand nor meet. (For me, it would be the hours of playing the same game over and over and over.)