apart

Today I fly back to Vancouver with Nora in the vain hope she may have school to attend. As we head out the door, her two cousins run towards her and hold onto her so tightly: a little huddle of girls with hot earnest tears running down their sweet little apple cheeks. Two pug puppies are at their feet whimpering, little tails beating against the girl’s pyjama legs. Their shiny wet eyes blink. Nora says, “I’m going to miss you so much.” They can barely say, “Good-bye, Nora, I hope to see you…at Christmas!”

This has been unprecedented family time and I am so grateful for it. I am also feeling a little weepy because I won’t see Nora for five weeks after this: our longest time apart. Before we get on the plane we have a few moments in the house alone and we decide to paint our nails and Nora makes tea. (…or rather…lukewarm coloured water…but I was still impressed with the gesture!) As we blow on our nails and wave them around like divas she asks me, all very grown up, “So, Mommy, when can I meet this Fellow?” I chuckle, “In a couple of months, when I get back.” She sighs. “That’s a long time to wait. Why can’t I meet him now?” “Well, because, I don’t want to introduce you to someone if it doesn’t end up working out. Though, I do have a pretty good feeling Fellow is going to stick around. He’s such a kind man. Mommy likes him very much. He’s a whole lot of fun.” She blows on her nails again, looks at me, smiles gently, looks down. As nonchalantly as possible she muses, “I’ve never been a flower girl. Do they have pretty dresses?” I chuckle, “Nora…” She smiles, busted. “I know, I know, but wouldn’t you LIKE to get married again? Wouldn’t that make you happy?” “Yes, if it was the right choice. I’m not going to get married just so you can have a pretty dress.” “If you DO get married again, do you suppose I can be the flower girl?!” I smile and wave my pretty pink petals at her, “Ooh, I am sure you would be my first choice. But honey, let’s not try to predict the future, let’s just – ” She cuts me off, she knows the phrase – “Live in the moment!” We chuckle.

I get two whole nights in Vancouver. I get to see my Fellow just long enough to remember what I’m missing.

Today after our morning run through, Craig and I talk about the ache of leaving our little ones behind for a few weeks while on a job. How rare and precious that time with them is, how absence helps us remember that. This is hit home doubly as I get another update from a dear friend fighting cancer. Attached are pictures of her with friends and family, squeezing the joy out of every last drop of summer.

Fragile. Precious. Humanity. Our hearts seem too tender for time.