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I'm taking my oldest to the airport in a few minutes. He is going back to Cincinnati, where in a couple of weeks he will begin his last year of college.

I usually volunteer to pick him up from the airport, but avoid the return trip for one simple reason- I hate goodbyes.

He's twenty-one, but leaving him at the terminal brings back so many painful memories. Like the first time I left him with a babysitter, or all those early mornings I had to drop him off at pre-K. There he sat with the other working mother's orphans, in a little room watching Sesame Street until school began.

Taking him to Boy Scout camp gave me an anxiety attack. He was leaving the STATE for a entire week. I will confess now, that I wrote the worst case scenario book (kidding- but I could have!)
I worried about snakes, homesickness, drowning- you get the picture.
When he left for college four years ago, I helped him pack his bags. I told his father that I would not make the drive to Ohio. I could not bear the thought of leaving him at the dorm, and driving 600 miles south without him. 

I am going to say goodbye at the terminal with a smile and a big hug. Then I will drive south with my eyes streaming; a kleenex balled in my fist.

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Your post is heart stirring, I understand the pain of goodbyes, especially with a child you love. I can see you driving down the road with tears streaming down your cheeks. Let 'em stream and then write, and write and write. You are a very interesting and easy to read writer.

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Thanks Carol, It gets both

Thanks Carol,

It gets both harder and easier with each goodbye. It just makes me so thankful to have so many wonderful memories of our time together when he was a young boy.


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Hello to Goodbyes

It is hard to say goodbye. Thanks for writing so eloquently about it.