Maybe you will cry a little too.
I'll try to wait until we're past the corner so you don't see the tears start, but I'm pretty sure that at a moment following fairly closely on the heels of the hugs and kisses, the last "I love you"s, and the fatal, final goodbyes
I will cry.
You're doing well, and you're such awesome parents and your little one is such a delightful bundle of joy and discovery,
And it's been so good to see where you've landed and to be blessed by your hospitality and to explore your new setting,
But contemplating the journey back reminds me of how far away you are.
It will take a bit of time, once I'm home, to forget the distance;
To get back to the old feeling that you're just a breath away when we're chatting on the phone while you're doing dishes or enjoying some face-to-face time on the computer.
At least I've seen you in your new setting. I know your backdrop a little now.
I have a frame of reference.
And that's all good. It makes it easier;
But I will still cry a little when I leave you.
Maybe a lot.