The Return

Apart from Suzanne's long sojourn in Africa, I've never had one of my kids be away as long as Celia has. She left more than 11 months ago, bound for the Pacific Northwest. She's built a new life for herself there.

But that doesn't stop me from missing her.  The last time I saw her, she gave me a little charm, a small shell that someone had given her when she left for the West Coast. I've kept it close ever since.

When I miss her even more than usual, I stroke the whorls of the shell, lift it up and inhale its scent, hoping that some trace of hers lingers on it.

We miss our children differently than we do our spouses or our parents or our friends. There is a visceral longing at times — I just want to hold her, give her a huge hug.

And, God willing, later today, I will.