My oldest daughter informs me today that she and her husband bought a house in Colorado last week while on their vacation in a small suburb of Denver. She just got back home!! My heart rips apart as I tell her how excited I am for her. This is the daughter that was married three years ago and the next year moved to Alaska(army) with her husband. I remember convincing her how fun and what an adventure it would be when they were stationed in Alaska and she was afraid of leaving her family and friends, her home. I remember at that time telling her to treasure every moment, it would be a wonderful experience and soon she would be back home. My heart was torn apart then, too, except I knew they would be back home.
The next year she had a baby in February. Scared and feeling alone, far from home and isolated, she wants me there with her. And of course, I would be there. I had planned to fly up the week prior to the expected arrival to help her get everything ready. The baby arrived a week early, the day before my scheduled flight. She called early in the morning. I ran around like crazy after she called. I changed the flight to that day, packed, got to the airport and made the 18 hour trip to Fairbanks, arriving at the hospital about 2 minutes after she gave birth, but in time to get pictures of the baby being cleaned and weighed and wrapped in her first blanket. I was exhausted, but the smile on her face gave me the energy to stay with her through that first night.
It was beyond freezing. Remember I live in Las Vegas where 55 degrees is freezing! And now, here I am in Fairbanks at minus 40 degrees, looking at my very beautiful daughter, my most precious granddaughter and wondering how in the heck will they get the baby from the hospital to the truck with out her freezing? But that was the problem for the next day!
After a week, I had to leave them, tearfully returning home, anxiously waiting for Emma's pictures to be emailed, with the almost daily updates from my daughter. I hated being so far away and not able to hold my granddaughter when ever I wanted. It just wasn't right!
They came back home last August. I was so full of joy to finally have my daughter and granddaughter back home. Emma with her funny faces, her hugs and sweet kisses. Krista so certain her child was a genius!
I have Vegas roots. My grandmother was born in Las Vegas, as was my mother, myself and all my kids and my grandson from my middle daughter. Are you seeing the very long roots here? My greatgrandmother came to Vegas in 1905 in a covered wagon, long, long deep roots. I don't care what the movie says, some of us have roots and we don't leave Las Vegas. We stay and have big birthday parties, family gatherings, weenie roasts and celebrate all holidays together. We don't move to Colorado.
"Yes, Krista, it's a beautiful town and it's a wonderful house, but what about jobs?" She has already checked out the schools, the safety of the town, found a job, as has David her husband. (Darn!) They have everything ready to go for the move in April. Now, it's not just Krista's leaving that tears my heart apart, but Emma. Cute, little Emma, who is just beginning to know her grandma. How will she remember me and know her grandma loves her?
"It really is beautiful, mom, you are going to love it. I can't wait for you to come and see it." I skim through the brochure and the pictures of their new house. I know she is excited, but her voice tells me she is afraid at the prospects of once again leaving home. My heart is screaming "please, don't go!" Instead, I give her a hug, holding on a little longer than usual and say "I am so happy for you, hon. It is a beautiful place."
She packs up Emma's things and we walk out to her car. She throws the babies things in the backseat and straps Emma into the car seat. She walks around and gives me one more hug. I take a step back and our eyes lock. We smile. We both say "I love you" at the same time. "Jinx" she says.
She gets in her car and backs out of the driveway while I smile the biggest smile I can muster and wave till she turns the corner. I walk back to the house and the tears flood my face, the damn finally allowed to break free. Sometimes the toughest thing about being a mom, is doing and saying what you know your kids need to hear from you. Even when you really don't mean one word!