My parents recently left after visiting for three weeks and I did the same as I always do. I stifle the sobbing until they’ve gone, walk around the now empty bedroom that once housed their belongings and feel utterly… alone.
You see, I’m not allowed to take them to airport. They say it’s too hard. So they get the shuttle bus but I’m not even allowed to accompany them to the meeting point and that ruling has been extended to Little Man. I see their point. It is too hard. It’s much easier for Hubby to ferry them away as if they are just nipping to the supermarket.
I find myself moping until Hubby arrives back alone and he is always wonderfully sensitive to my mood. The day they leave we always have a Chinese take-away for tea and he lets me watch what I want on the TV. Ironically, I don’t feel hungry or want to watch anything in particular.
My parents left on the English Mother’s Day – Sunday 30th March – and the emptiness I felt was enormous until I realised that I was grieving. Grieving for the family that had just left me and that I have previously left behind. Grieving for the happy and easy routine we had fell into during their stay that would be no more. Grieving for my son who would not have Grandma and Grandad at home with him. Grieving for the Monday morning when they wouldn’t be there when we wake. Grieving for them at missing out on watching Little Man grow and his daily quirks.
I’d purposely lined a lot of social engagements up for the week after they left and that included swimming, lunching with the in-laws and play-dates even though it was the evenings that were the worst. When Little Man had gone to bed and Hubby had called to say goodnight I felt lonely and had the best intentions of studying my little heart out in a way to curb those feelings of self-pity. I didn’t. I didn’t study at all last week because I just couldn’t find the motivation. I rarely went on social media or came on here. Instead I cleaned and did various other chores to keep me busy. Surprisingly for me (as I am fairly lazy) I did a lot of walking.
I know it will get easier. It has to, and I already feel like the dark cloud has lifted slightly even though I’m aware it is purely out of necessity.
Until next time,