Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that when my kids grew up they would live so far from me. I don’t know what I thought they would do with their lives, but I always thought they would be within yelling distance.

I realize that I am not the only mother in the world with kids living far from home. It seems in our town that most all the kids did, in fact, move away. I have friends whose children live fourteen or fifteen hours from them. So I really shouldn’t complain about how far my kids live from me. I can at least get to all of them in one day.

I do regret that there isn’t a training manual for long distance kids. I know there are times when I make demands on them that make it hard on them. First, I call them too much. I should realize that they are trying to work, raise families and they don’t have the time to listen to me drone on and on about trivial matters that I deal with. I really try to time my calls when I think they might be the least busy, but when you are raising kids when ever is it a “least busy time"? Uh, never.

Secondly, I want them to visit with me sometimes. I want to show off the grandkids and have my friends at least see that I am a grandmother. But it is too hard for them to travel with young children. I never had to travel with my four kids except for vacations and they ended making a movie about our kind of vacations.

I just pray that God will make me the bigger person and be of help to the kids instead of putting them on guilt trips. I have to admit I was sorely disappointed when they all declined my Thanksgiving invitation. However, we did all agree to meet at one of the kids’ houses that is more centrally located. I pouted inwardly for about fifteen minutes, then I felt ashamed of my feelings. I will do the traveling and I should. All I have to do is throw my suitcase in the car, no pack‘n’plays, no diapers, no special milk, no blankies, no passies, and most certainly not enough clothes to dress an entire European country.

So what am I beefing about? I just miss my kids and their kids. I wish we all lived closer. But then again…it’s not about what I want or wish. My children are living where they can have decent incomes and raise their families the way they see fit. They didn’t move to Timbuktu just to get away from me…or maybe they did. Well, I will fret about that tomorrow. 

© Copyright 2003, Sandy Fulton
Used by permission
www.sandyfulton.ibelieve.com