I remember many years ago saying goodbye to my mother at the Pittsburgh
airport before I boarded a plane to Dallas with my husband and two-year-old
daughter. We were leaving after a week-long visit. Tears flowed down my
mother’s face and I felt bad but I was ready to leave the cold and the snow
that had fallen during our time there and get back to my warm Southern home. I
never thought about her pain, even though we were very close, until recently
when I left my own daughter at the airport in Baton Rouge.
I hadn’t seen my younger daughter in nearly two years when she came to
visit at the end of September this year. I started crying as soon as I caught a
glimpse of her coming down the escalator at the airport. She was sobbing when
she got to me. We aren’t an exceptionally weepy group; we just have a very
special relationship, my daughters and I. A closeness that I cherish. Something
that time and distance can never diminish. And I count myself as very blessed
to have that with both of them.
My girlie’s visit wasn’t very stimulating. When asked what she wanted
to see and do while she was here, she said she only wanted to spend time with
me. With her sister and nephew as well. And visit the Super Target, something
that apparently doesn’t exist in Southwestern Pennsylvania. We got a family
portrait done while we were there, the first since 2008 and the only one done
of just the four us. That was an adventure in itself as Elijah was “in a mood”
and not inclined to cooperate. They turned out very nice in spite of that. We
spent a lot of time in the pool, alternately trying to work off the meals I was
cooking...all of her favorites...and get the Yankee a little color on her otherwise pale
skin. Poor thing inherited her grandmother’s Irish complexion and was just as
colorless upon her return home.
The only excitement we had while she was here was the hot air balloon
festival we took in one morning before hitting the outlets. Unless you count
the accident that Elijah had while playing at Burger King’s play area. He was
having too much fun to come out and use the restroom so he used his pants and
then slid down the sliding board. His mother wasn’t thrilled as she headed in
with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of paper towels to clean it up. We won’t
be going back there to eat for a very long while because, even though we
cleaned up his mess, the management wasn’t pleased. Perhaps they’ll forget about it in time. I rather
doubt my daughter will.
Anyway, back to my mother… Mom and I spent a lot of time together after
I moved back to the Pittsburgh area. Shopping trips, bird watching on the porch
swing, lunches at the Italian Oven. My girlies loved being on the farm so we
spent a lot of our days there. As I made dinner every evening after work, I
would talk to her on the phone until my dad would say “Why don’t you tell her
to just come over?” Since it was only about three miles, I did that a lot.
The distance between my daughter and I is easier to bear now due to
technology. Skype, free mobile minutes, Facetime. I’m sure it was harder for my
mom. I can’t imagine going weeks without talking to my girl as she had to do.
I thought of all of this as I left my baby girl at the airport. Without
her sister and our boy with me, I would have had a rougher time but it was
hard. The delay she had at the airport and subsequent overnight stay in Houston
after missing her connection to Pittsburgh didn’t help. I wanted to drive to
Texas to get her because, even though she’s an adult, my little girl was
spending the night all alone in a strange city. After she finally made it home,
I cried for two days. Her visit was too short, the distance too great. I now
know what my mother was feeling all those years ago. The agony of saying
goodbye (or “see ya later” as we do in our family) is almost a physical pain. I’m
forcing myself to grin and bear it until April when she comes back again. With
plenty of Skype in the meantime…
