BOXING DAY BLUES

My Father was of the belief that children should be surrounded with unconditional love, encouraged to pursue a good education and then allowed to fly free on their own abilities.  Jim and I have added to Dad's advice; we have cut the proverbial apron strings and have attempted to allow Christopher and Matthew an adulthood without any nitpicking parental interference, all in the hope that our boys and their spouses will not begrudge our presence but willingly choose to have us part of their lives. With my Type "A", control-freak personality, you have got to know that this is an ongoing exercise in agonizing self control for me.

It must be working though, because, blessedly, Christopher actually enjoys flying in from St. John's to spend Christmastime with us. So why the Boxing Day Blues? Well, tomorrow our elder son leaves for London, Ontario and time with Kristen's family.  December 30th will see them winging their way back to Newfoundland.

I know! I know! Friends with children in the U.S., western Canada, Australia, and even the armed forces overseas are rolling their eyes. I can hear their resounding, Suck it up, Princess. Okay, okay, but for today, I am indulging myself in the blues and wallowing in my sadness.

Christopher never fails to inspire me. Well read? Of course, what would you expect from English Professor? My stack of books to read grows exponentially when he is home.  But it is Christopher's grasp of history and the current state of our world that reminds me to "care", to never slip into complacency and to endeavour to remain informed.  I will miss early morning conversations over coffee and pre-dinner discussions, wine glass in hand. Precious times ending today.

I will miss Christopher's presence in our kitchen. An accomplished cook, his quirky little tidbits of advice on using an herb or spice, previously not considered, never fail to add sparkle to our meals. Perhaps, you should be writing a cookbook during your sebatical, Hon!

I will miss watching my elder son simply enjoying a good book, working at his computer or smiling at the antics of his much loved neice and nephew, Morgan and Zachary.

Oh, get over yourself, you huff. There is FaceTime and Skype and email and phones. Yup! All true! But I will miss actually being able to touch Christopher's shoulder or hand. Most of all, I will miss being crushed in one of his giant bear hugs. These cannot be replaced by modern technology.

And so, this morning on Boxing Day, I make no apologies for feeling blue. Now if you will excuse me, I am on my way to a Pity Party For One.