Holding On To Loved Ones

This past weekend two of my partner’s daughters visited with the boyfriend of one of them.  She and he had moved to Seattle so that he could complete a Masters Degree at the University of Washington. She was turning thirty Sunday; the other had flown up from San Francisco to surprise her sister.  We had a delightful visit with lots of interesting conversation, sharing of story, laughter and love.  When their car pulled out of our driveway late yesterday, and I put my arm around my partner’s waist, I could see that his eyes were full. I understood immediately. When I used to visit my younger daughter and her husband and kids in Portland, a four hour drive from where we live, and pulled away from the curb in front of their house to return home, I usually had tears in my eyes as well.  Now both of my girls and their families live in Bend, Oregon, too long a drive for me to make with ease.  At least I can see everyone with one visit, I tell myself, but I now have to fly to do so, as does my partner to visit his other two daughters in San Francisco. The birthday daughter will most likely return there by the end of summer as well. ‘If only we all lived closer together’ is something I often find myself thinking.  I loved being a mother, even when I wanted to strangle one daughter or the other for irritating behavior–”when are we eating mom; I’m hungry”, “when will be be there!?”, etc.  Visits now are never long enough, though when I leave I am always glad to be returning to my own life, my own space, the quiet of our home, and my writing.  When I was younger, I used to wish that I could create a safe circle where we would all reside, moving back and forth between our separate spaces with ease.  I could hug them when I felt a need and they, me.  I knew, even when they were little, that children move away from home, friends move cross country, people pass away, and life changes.  But knowing and experiencing are two very different animals.  I still want to create that circle, even though they now have families of their own.  I love where I live, so wish I could create it here, but I also know that is not to be. I remind myself that I hold the people I love in my heart.  Nevertheless, sometimes I squeeze my eyes shut and wish with all my might that I could hold them in my arms whenever I wanted to.