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Challenge: Summer Fun

Saying "Goodbye" is Never Easy

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Vacation is over, the summer is going by too quickly, and today we took Avi to camp. We’ve definitely packed it in this summer, trying to suck every last enjoyable moment out of it.

So far, we’ve done a pretty good job.

But now, it’s time to reset and change what we’ve been doing. Today, Avi is going to camp for three weeks.

We’ve gotten used to spending a lot of time together, and saying "goodbye" is never easy. I kissed and hugged Avi goodbye, helped her set up her bed and unpack her trunk, and told her to have the time of her life.

“I wish I didn’t love you so much,” Avi told me, “Then it wouldn’t hurt so much to say goodbye.”

Oh, how that makes me feel so special and breaks my heart all at once.

Saying "goodbye" is never easy.
Saying "goodbye" is never easy.

It's also hard for me to say “goodbye” to her, even though I know it’s for her own good. The growth she will have and the independence she will bring back after these three weeks away are invaluable. She has to learn that she can make it on her own, and I truly believe nothing does this better than summer camp.

It’s also not like she’s going to live with strangers in a far off land. She’s going to a great camp, with one of her best friends, and will get to do activities she loves.

And while these reasons make me feel better, they don't make it easier to say “goodbye.”

It's hard to leave the people you love. I still cry sometimes when I leave my family after having a weekend visit. I know it should get easier for me, but it never has, and I expect that it never will.

“We’re lucky we love each other so much,” I tell Avi. I can tell she's doing her best to hold in the tears, and so am I.

“Sometimes it hurts to love," I whisper into her ear.

This seems to make sense to her, and she pushes me out the door. I know it’s time for me to leave her, and as soon as I do, she'll be fine. Jon and I make our way out of the cabin, get into the car, I finally allow the tears I’ve been holding back to come out.

Just because I’m her Mom, doesn’t mean it’s any easier for me to leave her than it is for her to leave me. I take a deep breath as we drive out of the camp. “Three weeks isn't such a long time,” I tell Jon.

Find meaning each day,

Dara

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