A Star-Filled Sky

I’ve told you the stories

 

 I’ve told you the stories, how our oldest couldn’t renew his visa, how our boys left home, how we followed not long after. How our life was turned upside-down. 

I’ve told of the sadness of saying good-bye. Of the weight of grief that followed.

I’ve told you of being reunited with our boys, after months apart, and saying good-bye again. And the question of how, when I hold so much love in my heart for my boys, I can live a life so removed from them.

Then, as Christmas approached and the opportunity came to be together, new life sprung up within me. 

I pulled the plans together. 

We had a wonderful Christmas.

It flew by too fast.

We’re apart again.

And now it seems everyone else is diving into the New Year, full steam ahead, but to me the sun has gone down on one day, one long and special season, and I’m not ready for it to rise again. 

So I press pause on time. I press into the dark of the night. I need to. I’ve said good-bye to my boys and I can’t just get up and go on. 

A different good-bye

 

They both left our nest over a year ago, but being together again made it feel like they were never gone. And this good-bye was different. The focus was our second son. This was his time, his move. His decision to go forward. 

His plane ticket. 

Last time, he followed his brother. This time he set off on his own. Last time he crossed the Pacific, this time the Atlantic.

 

‘Tern’

Ink Drawing, 8×10 inches

For Sale $300 Canadian Dollars, $225 USD

shipping included

email charityleejennings@outlook.com

 

And I’m so happy for him. The excitement that stirs inside of me, for him, as he strikes out into the world to make new friends and discover his passions far outweighs every feeling I have for myself. But still, I must reconcile this change. I must come to terms with my new life.

 

His Own Adventure

Starting slowly

 

So I’m starting the New Year slowly. I’m not leaping in. I’m pausing – I’m not looking forward – I’m turning my head from one side to the other. I feel two gaps where two small boys used to huddle in close, one on each side, and I know my life will never be the same again. 

I miss my boys. I feel the weight of the sadness, the grief. But night holds more than darkness, I know. I peer out my window and fix my eyes on the promise of a star-filled sky. 

I pull out my pen and I draw. 

It’s simple, in black and white, because I need to make this easy for myself. I need to find the strength to lift this weight, to infuse it with life. 

Instead of looking forward, to the future, I pause for a bit and look back. 

The slow motion of laying down one line of ink after another creates this pause for me. I pause to reflect, to remember all the good, to create.

And line by line, drawing by drawing, the sun begins to rise again. 

I awake, not to the sound of my boys joking around, their laughter filling our home, a sound I deeply miss, but to the joy of seeing a drawing I have made, the feeling of success after rising to a challenge, the beauty of pouring my experiences, my emotions, into my art, the connection I feel with life. 

The darkness of night is fading fast. Morning comes.

“Good-bye”

Ink Drawing, approx. 5×8 inches

For Sale $200 Canadian Dollars, $150 USD

shipping included

email charityleejennings@outlook.com to purchase

 

Thank you, my wonderful readers and friends, for spending time with me by reading this post. Can you relate in any way?

If so, I hope you’ll share in the comments below and share this story with a friend.