It always happens.
We have a great visit, seeing sights, reminiscing, making jokes that only family understands, and catching up on the latest in our lives.
It just happened again. Emily and I had a wonderful three-plus days together in Acapulco. Then, it is 11:00 am, walking her to the cab that will take her to her bus home to Oaxaca. She negotiates with the driver, puts her bag in the trunk, turns to me for a final hug, gets in the cab. We wave. She is gone.
It was 27 years ago that her mother and I separated and then divorced, but I still am hit hard when any one, or all, of my daughters and I separate. It is as if I am back to that fateful day in 1983 when I moved out.
Of course, it passes; I know we will be together again. We will talk on the phone and Skype, and write. Besides, we just had this fabulous visit. I have pictures, and memories, to prove it. And here I am, still in Acapulco, with a wondrous collection of MCC friends.
It’s all good, as my friend Amy says. Even when it’s hard.