Yesterday my son dropped by one final time on his way back to St. L., where he’ll have the kids for the summer, so no more visits here for a while.

The funny thing is, now that I’ve actually seen and hugged him in person for the first time post-vaccine, it seems harder to let him go now.  During quarantine, I almost got used to (or resigned to) being apart for literally whole years at a time, in addition to being separated by hundreds of miles.  Now that I’ve had the relief of being reunited, only to have to let him go for who knows how long, it seems sadder, more isolating.  But happier and more hopeful too, having had the chance to spend a few hours together catching up.  I guess it’s a paradox.

Whenever next time can happen, we’ll either be on our way back to Ohio, or living there.  At least we’ll all be somewhere in the midwest!

Here are some pleasant memories to sustain me until we meet again, including walks in the “prairie”, gaping at the cicada horror (covering the ground like thick mulch), and Misu exhausted after her fun adventures with Avdi.  The orange poppies are in his honor.