I was ready for you to go, I thought.
Home was too small for us both.
Nature made you this way, so it’s easier to let you fly.
The time had come.
I waited with longing.
Suddenly the moment was too near.
We bought new stuff,
we packed the car,
we drove off, you got settled.
Nine months you were in my stomach.
Eighteen years you have been in my life.
I shaped and loved you, every day.
I thought I was prepared – until the intensive pain!
Three stops to cry.
Three times I couldn’t breathe.
Three weeks in deep sorrow.
Every day I can’t kiss you.
Every day I can’t hug you.
Every day I grieve the space that was you.
I miss telling you to pick up your shoes twice a day.
I miss calling you down, ten times.
I miss setting the table for five.
I call you for dinner, only to stop.
I go to your room to torment myself. I think it’s the end of my life.
I grieve for the end of what was, and our family as we knew it.
I feel so proud of you.
I look forward to a new chapter in our life.
We became friends.
You haven’t left home – just gone somewhere else