I miss my son.
I miss being his mom.
One of the beautiful parts of my relationship with JP has been the dance of growing together. We guide each other gently toward transitions when one of us is ready. “Ready to sleep in your own crib?” I ask. “Are YOU ready, Mom?” he replies. And when we both answer yes, we make the turn together.
Perhaps what makes this separation so challenging is that it came so unexpectedly. There was no graceful pirouette. I was just suddenly…gone.
And I miss my kid.
I miss his toothy belly laugh…the smell of his sweaty hair after a nap and the feel of his tiny hand on my face. I miss his open-mouthed kisses and the sound that he makes when he’s smitten. Have you noticed? It sounds like “mmm-geeee”…a beautiful honest and authentic sound of pure joy that I miss in the deepest part of my heart.
God, this is hard.