Only there isn't anything.
Instead, there is only sadness.
I just read a fantastic post by a mother of four looking back at the hope and love she felt 32 years ago when her first child was born and at how things turned out differently but also the same.
That post really struck a chord with me.
Daughter 1 is due to leave for university in a few months and she will be living in Scotland, a four and a half hour train ride or 30 minutes by plane away.
The family is breaking up. It hasn't always been the happiest family. In fact, sometimes things have been downright terrible. Even so, it was a family, my family, and I have lived inside it for nearly 19 years.
And soon, it is to change, shrink a little, lose a member. It feels like an amputation is beginning and I can already feel some of the raw pain. Images of daughter 1 as a 5 year old flash into my head all the time, a bossy little girl with a squeaky voice telling everyone what to do and all I can do is cry.
And daughter 1 is only the first. The others will follow. In 7 years, they will all be gone.
Pretty obvious stuff? Well yes, only... I hadn't really realised it before.
What makes all this really bite is something similar to what Ms. Moon, the authour of the post above, is experiencing:
I wish, oh babies, I wish - I could have done better by you sometimes. I do.
I wish that too. I wish it so hard I could gouge my eyes out with the strength of that wish.
Mothers feel guilt all the time. It comes with the job. But this is something more. I know I could have done better by them. I know I should have done.
