This is a bit of a cross post from F@cebook,
so forgive me if you've already been exposed to my pathetic-ness. :)
It has struck me more than once over the last 48 hours that researching and studying up on the special need of a child we may be bringing home to join our family at the same time that I'm preparing to pack up and take my oldest child far, far away from home is a strange and difficult place to be.
(Yes, we received a file from Monday night's release to review.
Yes, it is a good solid file. And an adorable child.
We just need to determine if she's meant to be our child.)
Today, he spent a good portion of the day prepping for the "sermon" he will share at tonight's youth group meeting. And just now, he was drumming in the basement, practicing for the worship service. His last worship service with his youth group. Gulp.
I've gotten used to these daily private concerts. Over the years, I've enjoyed hearing his technique improve and his style develop. This afternoon, it struck me that there aren't likely many more of these private concerts happening in my basement for the next 6 months.
And I lost it. I sat here at my computer, doing the big ugly Momma cry. (Why, oh, why can't I be one of those cute dainty cry-ers?) How on earth am I supposed to say good-bye to this kid on Monday night? I'm just not sure I can do this gracefully.
I mean, I know it is going to happen. I know it has to happen. But I just don't have any clue as to HOW it is going to happen? I'm really not looking forward to leaving him at his dorm Monday night and walking away.
Flying out of Denver on Tuesday morning without him might just require some sort of intervention. Or very strong meds, at the least. And tissues. LOTS and lots of tissues.