My baby, who ran away to live in the States when she was 22 years old, is coming home for 8 days. It's difficult to have your children live thousands of miles away because visits are never as often or as long as we'd like. Shelley also married a military man so they sometimes live abroad which makes the visiting even less frequent.
This visit will be a special one because she and her family will be leaving for a 2 year stint in Bolivia at the end of July and I know I won't see her for quite a while. It's silly but I can't look at her without feeling she's still my baby, even at the ripe old age of 44.
One of the greatest pleasures in my life is in knowing how much my three girls love each other. They are as close as any sisters on the face of the earth and that fills me with gratitude for some reason. It makes me cry. Silly.
I'm feeling pretty emotional these days because of all the stress I've been through lately and then I just got a phone call from a friend to inform me that another friend has suffered a heart attack and is brain dead. It powers home to you how fragile life is and how quickly it can end, sometimes with no warning at all. Maybe that's why I'm so happy my girls are close because a part of me will carry on after I'm gone.
Having Shelley here, even if only for the 8 days, will be wonderful. I'm already looking forward to seeing my three girls huddled together and laughing, enjoying their time with each other. How did I get so lucky?
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