As we entered this first week of 2021, I started by posting a new piece on this adoptee voice on my blog and organizing my son’s bedroom. It was then that a deep sadness engulfted me. Realizing that my son hasn’t slept in this house in a year triggered me.
And before I knew it, I was sobbing.
When he went off to college in the fall of 2019, I knew things would be different. What none of us knew was how bizarre 2020 would turn out to be. As a household at high-risk for complications from COVID-19, we’ve all had to adjust. I’m grateful he can safely and comfortably stay with his dad during breaks, but the pain of missing him is real.
My heart longs to hug my children. To hug them without masks or coats turned backward with hoods over our faces. Only a few more months, I keep telling myself. We just need to hold on until Spring.
My emotions shifted when he called me on Wednesday.
“Hi Mom. Are you watching the news.”
I’d been glued to the television (or rather, iPad) since Congress started the Electoral Votes’ Certification process. Like millions of others, I was watching when the mob began scaling the walls of the Capital. And I watched in horror as they entered the building while our Vice President was rushed out of the Senate Chamber.
It was a monumental moment for all of us.
Speaking about it with my son made life feel a little more normal, even as our conversation revolved around the craziness.
The sadness shifted as we shared the experience.
Note to self: create more shared experiences with those I love.
Until next time. . .