saying goodbye

A farewell occurred at our house tonight, one that we’ve known was coming for some time.  We’ve had to bid farewell to a number of church families over the past few months (all for good, positive reasons), but this last goodbye was the one that we knew would be hardest for Lyd.  This family had three children, the youngest boy of which was Lyd’s age and her best friend.  They went to Sunday School together, they often sat together at church, and they had playdates at each other’s houses.  They are very close.  And, now, this family is moving across the country, and it is likely that we will not see them again for quite a long time.

For months, Lyd has unexpectedly started crying at random times when she would remember that “M is moving!  I won’t be able to see him anymore!”  This is a real grief for her, and I’ve felt it wiser to acknowledge the loss rather than try to minimize it.  At other times, she would ask me if we could have a playdate at M’s new house.  “No sweetie, his new house is too far away.”  This would prompt more sadness, tears, and words of, “I’m really sad that M is moving away!”

Tonight we had to say goodbye for the last time.  And it was sad.  At first it didn’t seem that Lyd would actually say goodbye of her own volition.  I think she thought that if she refused to say goodbye, then the final departure wouldn’t happen.  But, as we walked out with them to their minivan, she suddenly seemed to realize that this was her last chance, and she gave beautiful, heartfelt hugs to each member of the family.  Then, she retreated to JJ’s arms and burst into sobbing tears as we waved to the departing minivan.  I cried right along with her.  I felt, and continue to feel, for her so strongly.  Little M is her best friend, and while Lyd may only be almost five years old, she feels the loss keenly, and I wouldn’t dare insult her by saying, “It’s not that big a deal.”  It is a HUGE deal to her!  I suspect that she will never forget her friend M, nor will she forget how awful it felt to say goodbye to him.

I carried her back into the house, both of us crying, and even JJ had tears in his eyes.  She and I sat down in our rocking chair in the living room, and we cried our tears out.  We talked about how much we will miss M and his family, and how sad we are.  We prayed for them, that they would have a safe trip and that they would make new friends at their new home so that they wouldn’t be lonely.  But then, I tried to steer the conversation towards the people that are still here.  We talked about friends of hers who are not moving away, we reminded her of how much her Daddy and I love her and that she will always have her family with her, we talked about the things she has to look forward to, and we talked about how, perhaps someday, she might see M again.  I told her that perhaps when she’s a grown-up and goes to college, maybe she’ll meet M again.  Lyd responded:

“Maybe when M is a grown-up and I am a grown-up, we can have a playdate together, and then we can get married.”

Oh, my wonderful sweet daughter.  You are a darling, lovable girl.  Whatever boy is blessed to have you as his wife someday will have a wife with a heart as wide as an ocean.  And who knows?  Maybe you and M will end up together someday.  What a great story that would be!  But, dear Lyd, I hope you always remember your first love fondly.  I’m sure you will, for when you part on good terms, the loving feelings never die away.  Momma knows, sweetie.  Momma understands.

And can I just say how PROUD I am of Lyd that through all this waiting and dreading and sadness and grief of loss, she has articulated her feelings so well in simple language, while still perfectly describing the situation and her own feelings.  I am incredibly proud of her.  She has articulated her feelings better than many adults I know, and I am honored and humbled to have had a role in helping and facilitating the emotional growth of this incredible little girl.  She is well on her way to becoming a competent, compassionate, and Christ-centered woman.

Now, I have to wipe away my own tears (which have been flowing freely as I typed this post), and mentally prepare for the M-less world of tomorrow.

free range children

Lyd has two friends over today, a sister and brother, for a final playdate before the sister and brother and the rest of their family move to the other side of the country tomorrow.  (The movers are at their house today, packing and boxing, so I offered to take the kids to give them something to do.)  They were playing nicely in the house, but starting to get a little bored, so I gave them each a plastic bag and told them that they could go anywhere they wanted on the property (with a few exceptions).  But, basically, they could go wherever they wanted.

Excitedly, off they went.

As they headed off, I pondered whether this was a safe thing to do or not.  (There’s an interesting blog that I found a few months ago, called Free Range Kids, that ponders this topic of letting kids go off on their own.)  As far as the ages of these three kids go, we’re talking about my Lyd, who is 4.75 years old, the boy who is 5.5 years old, and the girl who is 7.5 years old.  So they’re not babies.  And, 20 years ago, I doubt that many parents would have thought twice about sending their kids out to play unsupervised, especially on a property such as the one we live on.  But my brain then reminded me of the three burglaries that have happened on our back street in the past 6 months.  I think of the kids who were (likely) doing drugs in the church parking lot at night.  That was about 2 years ago, but still.  How much do you hold on tight to your children, and how much do you just … let them be kids?  These are smart kids, (overall) obedient, respectful — they deserve to have a little free range, especially when it’s a beautiful day outside, it’s a quiet summer day, and it’s these kids last chance to play together — forever.  Really and truly forever.  There’s a fairly likely chance that they will never see each other again.  Lyd has been sad about losing these best friends of hers for weeks.

After ten minutes, when I decided to go outside and find them, I couldn’t find them.  Anywhere.  I didn’t (completely) panic, because we live on an almost 2-acre property, but my heart did start to beat a little faster.  I did a basic circle of the property, but no children were to be found.  Finally, I thought that I’d better check back up at the house first, just to make sure.  And there they were.  The girls had had to use the bathroom.  All was well.  And, oh, were they excited about the time they had had to themselves (all 15 minutes of it!)  They had found the ripe yellow plum tree down by the school office, had each picked a plum off of it, and had brought them home to wash and eat them.  (They are delicious, sweet plums.)  They were overjoyed when I told them they could eat as many plums as they wanted, so long as they washed them first.  Eyes wide with glee, they raced out the door and down across the property to the plum tree.

They’re fine.  And then they played in the house with dolls, yes, even the boy.  Now?  They’re back outside, running in circles, playing tag.

It’s good to be a kid.  I’m glad they have this afternoon to just — be kids.