My son displayed less anxiety. He gave us each a hug and kiss and then went back to Netflix.
My wife held it together until we left my grandmother’s house. As soon as we got in the car, she started crying. Then she began talking about life insurance and our will and the possibility of a plane crash or an ISIS assault on the Louvre.
It’s hard to say goodbye, particularly to children. The uncertainty of our future hangs over such transactions, acknowledged or not. Things can go wrong–like CNN can’t find your plane wrong–and your time is not guaranteed. But what would you do instead, stay home?
We made it to Ohio, where we joined my in-laws. The dog made himself at home, licking the kitchen floor and begging for ice. There will be another goodbye tomorrow, one where the one left behind has no concept of what’s happening. Maybe then it’ll be my turn to cry.