A few weeks ago I left my friend’s house after a “play date,” and as I was sitting in my car waiting for it to cool off enough to touch the steering wheel a lump formed in the middle of my throat
“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry,” I repeated to myself.
I think this move is starting to hit me. We’re possibly leaving two months from today and I haven’t had any emotional days yet (hence why I’ve taken up talking to myself), but I can tell my days are numbered before I start having random sob fests.
|This wasn’t the time I almost cried, but it seemed like a good photo for the post.|
The reason for my almost-tears a few weeks ago? My friend hosted a mini-pool party—and when I say “mini” I mean it was in the tiny kiddie pool with three of my favorite people under two feet tall. It made me realize I won’t get to see them grow up. I know I’ll still see them, thanks to technology, but gosh darn-it, I’m attached to them.
The child-bearing woman inside me floats to cloud nine when I see my little friends not only recognize me, but run towards me with open arms and give me a tiny, but huge hug. I melt inside. Seriously. And the thought of not seeing them for AT LEAST three years (unless I come back to Georgia to visit, of course) is something I can’t comprehend right now. I get really sad knowing they may not even remember who I am!
I know this is part of military life and moving, but it sucks and I thought I’d share my frustration. I also know this is just the beginning. Shoot, if I’m getting misty-eyed over kids who can’t even say my name yet, how am I going to handle saying “See ya soon” to my grown up friends?