Maggie drove away yesterday after tearful hugs and prayers of blessing. My tears! We will see her again for a few hours on Friday, getting her installed in the dorm. We will get Patrick situated and then come back home to a house that is steadily emptying out.
I was a little testy with Patrick at one point yesterday afternoon, then realized I was sad, and needed to cry. So I did. And ran errands on my bike and sought comfort in a chili relleno burrito made by the nice lady at El Patio. Yes, it was comforting! I told myself that feelings of grief are not shameful, but rather lovely and natural considering the sweet relationship I have with my kids.
Patrick and I sat outside for our dinner last night and talked about important things. We watched the chickens scratch for bugs and eat grass. Little girls, not so little any more, were all out clothes shopping in El Paso, using hard earned funds, seeking their bargains. Thomas was at his apt, probably enjoying tv or the computer. The house does not feel sad at all knowing that former inhabitants are now off and about, growing up. It must be used to that pattern, as the Turners, who built the place had their own blended family with five kids who all went their different directions, too. The house knows that kids come back for holidays and family celebrations, and as the years pass bring partners and babies and new stories to share.