“A Grandmother thinks of her grandchildren day and night, even when they are not with her. She will always love them more than anyone would understand.” ~Karen Gibbs

Last week I was in Houston amid boxes and tape as I helped my oldest prepare for her family's imminent move out of state.  This wasn't the first packing rodeo for me - far from it!  I've packed and moved our kids so many times, I'm considering opening my own packing business - "Mimi's Movers" has quite a ring to it, don't you think?  I have become quite proficient with bubble wrap and Sharpies, and to date I don't think we've lost a piece of glassware yet on my packing watch.

I thought I had experienced all of the "firsts" of leaving our kids and our kids leaving.  I remember the first day of Preschool when a three-year-old Caleb and I dropped his sisters off, and how all the way home he asked, "Mommy, where girls?" as I choked back tears; and then repeating the same thing the next year as we left them at Kindergarten for the first time.  Then I vividly remember how empty I felt the day I left Caleb at his first day of Kindergarten - what would I do with my time and no shadows?  I remember going to Walmart because I couldn't bear going back to an empty house, only to see lots of moms with their little ones shopping with them, which was actually worse than going home.  In all of those cases, though, we adjusted to our new normal.  But every year after that, the first day of school always brought a twinge of sadness to me, as it was a tangible milestone - another step in their growth and journey to independence.  Bittersweet.

I also remember the first time I left our girls at Florida College Missouri Camp - walking back up the sidewalk to the car as Becca sobbed, "Don't leave me here!"  It was a long drive back to Texas, but I later found out she was fine pretty much the minute after we left.  And then every year thereafter, I would miss them while they were at camp, but knew that it was good for them.  So good.  In fact, Caleb still goes!

And who can ever forget the first time of leaving your children at college?  I remember exactly how I felt the hot August afternoon when we descended the stairs at the girls' apartment and got into the car as a family of three, leaving behind the two who had made us parents.  It seemed like the most unnatural thing in the world to leave them there.  But we did, and two years later we did the same thing with their brother, and then we were back to two.  But we adjusted to that as well.  And they flourished and grew.

In the ensuing years we've had other firsts - we put two of them on an airplane at different times and watched as they left the country to study abroad.  Then they left college, taking jobs in other cities resulting in more moves - permanent addresses as opposed to the temporary college residences.  One moved back home for a short time and has now returned to school.  And we even added one by subtraction, as we permanently removed Sarah from our "payroll" by adding Ryan to our family.  We will be moving another one across her current town in December as we add to our family once again by marriage.

That's a lot of moves.  And a lot of change.  A lot of living, growing, and adjusting.  But this time - this move of Sarah's family - is different and new.  While I've moved my kids a lot of places over the past 25 years, this will be the first time that any of them have moved out of the great state of Texas.  For the first time ever (other than her brief stint in Costa Rica), it will take longer than three hours by car to get to her.

And then there's Lydia.  I'm still very new at this Mimi thing, but it really has been the BEST ten and a half months with the sweetest addition ever to my life!  It doesn't seem to lose its wonder - every interaction with her is ... well, I have no words!  I see so much of our ten-month-old Sarah in her - especially in her personality.  The way she loves books and baby dolls; how she is so very careful when she pulls up on the coffee table - ironically, the same one her mother pulled up on (which I think is going in a dumpster in Houston next week - don't be sad, it's time!); the way she loves to cuddle; and I could go on and on.  I know that distance will prevent us from seeing her as often as we have since her birth.  And that pulls at this Mimi's heartstrings.

But I've learned something through the years and all of the leaving.  It will be ok!  We will adjust.  We always do.  It could be worse.  And we will treasure even more the times we get to share.  Text pictures and Facetime calls will have new meaning and renewed appreciation.

As I go road trippin' next week with Sarah and Lydia to Nashville, help them unpack, and leave them in their new home to fly back to Texas, I am sure I will feel some sadness.  I've felt it before, and I'm sure I will feel it again!  But overriding the sadness will be so much gratitude - thankfulness for the relationship I have with my daughter that makes it hard to leave her; grateful for a son-in-law who seeks to provide what is best for his family; thankful that they are serving the Lord no matter where they live; and overwhelmingly blessed to be Mimi to that precious little soul.

Debra Ginsberg wrote, "Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.”  And may I add grandchildren to that equation as well.  So if you see my "hearts" in Dallas or Nacogdoches - or soon in Nashville - give them a hug for me.  And the little piece of my heart that will be left here in Whitehouse could probably use one as well.

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