Just when I think I’ve reached most of the parenting milestones, another one hits me like a ton of bricks.
For nearly nine years, we’ve been lucky enough to live next door to an amazing family. Big Bro was just about two when we met, and their daughters were just a bit older. We’d go to the neighborhood park, hang out on the front lawn, and invite each other over for birthdays. Before we knew it, theirs was a family of six and ours of four. Her son and Little Bro are just months apart. All of the kids play together almost every day, riding bikes, selling lemonade, pretending school, and most recently building worlds of their own in Minecraft. Their daughter was Big Bro’s first friend. She’s one of his best friends.
And two weeks ago, they moved.
They say having a child is like having your heart on the outside of your body. I watched Big Bro help his friends pack their things. I watched as his heart- my heart- broke. It’s the first time he’s experienced such a big change in a friendship like this. They won’t be knocking on the door shortly after getting home from school. Five kids won’t be sauntering through my kitchen for granola bars or darting in to get more toys to take outside. While I’m bummed about it too, nothing compared to the gut-punch of seeing my son feel that pain. I held him while he cried. I let him be sad. I handed him a pencil and paper.
As parents, we’d love for our kids to feel nothing but happiness, but that’s just not the case. I can’t put a band-aid on it and make it all better.
Thankfully, our neighbors are moving a mere three miles away. While it won’t be the same, we’ll still find a way to play.
Our Life in A-Z 