Nostalgia

When we decided to relocate from New York I knew it would be difficult for me on many levels, but I underestimated the emotional roller coaster ride that my sons would have to endure and eventually overcome on this adventure.   

Although they have very different personalities they are both very sensitive and loving.  The 5 year old tends to be very dramatic, wearing his heart on his sleeve and you always know if he is happy or sad.  The 7 year old is very stoic, holds his cards close and still lacks the ability to connect to his feelings. 

Excitement about our adventure turned to sadness at the realization that we were indeed on an adventure.   The house where they were born and raised would soon belong to someone else.  The neighborhood where most of their friends lived would soon be left behind and most of those friends would never be seen again.

 Looking back at a few of my older son’s farewells, I am truly amazed at how early connections are made and how each relationship is carefully treated in a slightly different, yet respectful and loving way.   I remember three distinct farewell events that will stick with me forever.

The first happened one evening when a neighborhood boy who tended to be very quiet and calm came to say goodbye. He brought a picture of the two of them on a play date together in a frame for my son.  He had the same picture for himself.  When it was time to say goodbye for the last time, my son simply said, “goodbye, I’ll never see you again” and walked away.   I didn’t know what to say and as I tried to lighten the mood, this boy simply said, “it’s true, we will never see each other again.”  

The second was after a final play date with two close school friends.   I drove one of the boys home and when it was time for him to exit the car my son called out to him, “goodbye, I am going to miss you.”  The boy responded, “I am going to miss you too.”   Then, they ran to each other and hugged.  When the hug was over, my son got into the car and the boy ran into the house with his head down.

 

The third was after a sleep over with his best friend.   My son was still behaving as if they would be playing together the next day as they always did.  The farewell was a positive and happy one.  Both boys were clearly sad, but surprisingly stoic.  I was amazed at their ability to compartmentalize this somewhat traumatic event as they hugged and promised to see each other again soon because they knew they would.

During all three of these exchanges, I was surprised, saddened and extremely proud of him for letting his typically hidden emotions peep out for just a moment.  At just the right moment in each case.

Things were not that easy for my younger son.   I completely misread and misunderstood the depth of his social awareness and I now know that I wrongly discounted his understanding of our adventure and what that meant to him.   Perhaps I was more concerned about packing and other selfish things to notice that he was for the first time not being dramatic about his feelings.  He did get to spend the night and say goodbye to one of his favorite families.   When I went to pick him up, he refused to leave and I simply didn’t know what to do.  Eventually we coaxed him out and into the car, but it tore a hole right through me.

 When we finally arrived at our new home he said to me apropos of nothing, “I miss my friends.”  I began to understand that in this moment, contrary to his usual dramatic self, he was trying to keep it together and it was not easy.   

I learned a lot about my sons on this adventure. 

In the end, we finally made it to our new home base and are now trying to find our new normal.   The boys are still trying to fill the void of the friends left behind, but each day gets easier as they meet new people and discover that they can actually have fun with each other.