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Forever a mom

I used to love airports. It is such a happy place, the starting line of many an adventure. A boyfriend once took me to the airport for a date. We watched planes take off. Cheap he was, but still a happy place, like I said.

Today I am not so sure though. Do moms like airports? Celeste says I must just drink wine and not worry about the kids. She is, in my experience, always right. Rather worry about poor Kev; all alone with the crazies. Also perhaps worry about my age (I’m en route to my 20 year high school reunion and copious amounts of wine). I can already feel the headache coming on.

As I sit between two aunties waiting to board (one whose cellphone makes a ridiculous sneezing sound every time a message comes through, the other chewing open mouthed through a packet of salt & vinegar), I contemplate the importance of Myprodol on a trip like this. I also wonder if Kai will steal his dad’s pillow tonight, I’ve gotten so used to sleeping with little arms around my neck.

A boy and girl passengers walk past. They have the same nose, same freckles, same same. Brother and sister and obviously not only close in age. That will be my two one day I think, and smile.

You can fly wherever, you can un-mom yourself as best you can. But I, as you, have become so fully Mom or Dad, have so deeply embraced this role, that we can never be without a child in our heads. That sounds freaky, I realise, especially given the hour I am writing this at, but all parents out there know what I mean. What a ride, what a wild privilege.

* i wrote this three weeks ago on a trip and life got in the way of posting it. But tonight I want to dedicate it to all parents out there, especially the mourning ones –  every miscarriage, every death – always a parent wherever your child may be xxx


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