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Home again, gone again

Writer's picture: Sandra MitchellSandra Mitchell

My son came home for the first time since Christmas – his longest stretch away since moving from Michigan to Los Angeles last August.


When he walked in the door I realized I can no longer refer to him as Kiddo. I mean, look at that beard. He’s a man. From here on out, I will call him by his 11th-hour-name-change name, Adrian.


One of the things I miss most when Adrian is at his new home in LA is hearing him play guitar and sing. The other night, he came into the house singing REALLY LOUD. It was the best.


I also miss hearing him talk to the dogs because he uses this silly voice he seems to save just for them.


Tonight, he’s headed back to LA. I miss him already, but I know he’s doing what needs doing. I’m proud, and sad, and excited for him. With my whole heart I know that everything is as it should be.

And as Adrian exits, another comes home. Tomorrow, Liam, my step son, my bonus son (really, he’s such an unexpected gift in this life of mine), arrives. When he’s away I miss his laugh and infectious positivity.


Life is series of receiving and letting go, receiving and letting go. I feel so damn lucky.

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