Friday, June 24, 2011

Ping Pong Pang

How I miss this boy, this man, my son, companion, teacher. . .  I miss his ebullience, his appetite, his wisdom and intellectual daring. I miss his dimples, his clear eyes and clarity of thought. I miss the 'bigness' of him, his patience and integrity, the sight and sound of his bare feet on beach sand, boardwalk and forest floor. . . I miss our conversations, his wry humour and thoughtful insights. I miss the way he opens doors, skims stones and butters toast. I miss seeing his car keys on my kitchen bench and his size fifteen shoes at my back door. 

Over the years - for better or worse - I've become well-versed at the art of living with 'presence-in-absence', but. . . well, you know, sometimes being on the opposite side of the world from loved ones really sucks. Today it does. And - bloody hell - I'm missing him Big Time.

Yes, we're all connected and there's no such thing as separation, really, and yes, I absolutely celebrate his autonomy and independence and vision. But today, the UK (where, T assures me, he is thriving) might as well be a galaxy away. 

Life. 'Tis one blessed paradox after another.  


  1. Aww, look at that little guy. And that big guy. No wonder you miss him. xx

  2. I know, Pen - and Kay. 'Tis no wonder. Thank you - I know you both know the feeling.

    Pang. Pong. Ping. xo

  3. Oh Claire, this made me cry. So beautiful in sentiment and understanding. Ah, that paradox--yes, you are right! To be so happy for our children, for their bright future, yet so sad as they leave the nest.
    And I'm not even there yet! But I know that four years will pass in a flash, and then, zip, there he goes...
    But then, even though it's not the same as flesh beside us, there is the miracle of the internet, and Skype, a fiber that keeps us a bit more connected even if miles away.
    (Can you imagine waiting for snail mail--as wonderful as it is to receive--for bits of information?!)
    This was wonderful, Claire. And your son is a handsome young man--how can you not miss that face? :)

  4. Damn. Sorry. I really am. I feel this.

  5. Dear Jayne
    So much of 'it all' is paradox, isn't it? I'm sorry this made you cry - am touched and thankful, too. Tears, when they come, are a gift. . . and there's something very connecting about tears shed with another? So, thank you. You're right about the blessings of the internet and the many ways we enables us to stay in touch with our loved ones - and, of course, we are linked via heart and head in more ways than it's possible to articulate, let alone get our heads around! Perhaps the paradoxical nature of things is key. . . For all the challenges our world faces, it seems to me our sense of wonder and mystery seem ever on the increase.

    I loved seeing your pics of your handsome son recently, too. Aren't we blessed!

  6. Dear Rebecca
    Thank you. The day I wrote this it felt as though if surgeons were to open me up, they'd surely locate the place and shape of this sadness (with its redeeming shimmer of gladness, too). Ouch. I know you know this feeling. It sends us both down to the water's edge. . . to sand and salt and soft sea creatures.
    Much love xo