Today all three kids embarked on a Road Trip.
They're going to their great-grandmother's funeral in Arizona.
It's only 4 hours away.
I'm still crying. They left an hour ago. It's hard being a Mom. Those are all three of my babies in one car, traveling to another state with no adult. Sure, the twins are 17 now and Lane is 15, but I feel so helpless and fraught with "What if's."
All of the firsts came flooding back and they seem like they happened just yesterday. The first time they ran off to nursery; the first time they left for kindergarten. Eager and sure of themselves with no fear.
Me, I'm holding back tears as I wave at them while they drive away. They barely notice me.
I won't be whole again until they all return.
Less than one year. That's how much time I have left before we're not living under the same roof. Less than 11 months to be exact. I thought the beginning years were hard. Hard is easy when you're with the ones you love the most.
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