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I am a bit of a mess this morning.
I just put my son on a plane to China. Well, I put him on a plane to Newark, but from there he is headed to Beijing for a semester.
I am trying really hard not to cry.
It's not so much about missing him. I mean, I'll miss him (I already do), but I'm used to missing Zack. We haven't seen much of him since he left for college a couple of years ago. He has done service projects on spring breaks, and spent this summer doing an internship in DC. And truth be told, he has a way of getting on our nerves when he's around for more than a few days (this is common with 20-year-olds), so we've been mostly okay with him being away.
But not this far away.
That's the thing. He is going to be half a world away. I can't get to him quickly if there is a problem. I don't speak the language of the place where he'll be. I don't know the culture. I don't know anybody there. I know, he can call or email me, but I am going to be really limited in what I can do to help.
I can't take care of him there. He really has to take care of himself.
It's not that I don't think he's capable. Zack is a very capable young man. He's bright, independent and resourceful. He doesn't need my help all that often...but being able to help has been important to me.
I love him more than I will ever be able to tell him or show him. He is unspeakably precious to me, and I would give my life for him in a heartbeat. That his well-being and safety is up to him and to others I don't know is heartbreaking.
It's so hard. From the first time you hold your child in your arms, they become part of you in inexplicable, wonderful and sometimes painful ways; you are never the same. And when they leave, they take part of your heart with them.
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