We’re starting a new feature: The letter you always wanted to write.
There we were, on the Fly Away Bus at the airport, waiting to begin our trip to Union Station. We just started to pull out of LAX, when you turned to face the window. I busied myself, trying not to look at you. It was only going to be a 25 minute bus ride. This wasn’t a commitment to be a chatter box on an uneventful ride.
As the bus made its way onto the crowded freeway, it was clear you were crying behind those sunglasses. You’d pick up your phone, text, then cry again. I tried my best to not engage in your drama. Scenarios ticked off in my mind, none very original. Were you breaking up? Did someone die, and were you arriving too late? I kept to myself, determined to grant you space, but your tears weren’t letting up. You were wiping them away with the back of your hand. Combined with the worst collection of heartbreak songs being piped over the bus PA system …you were breaking me up.
So I handed you a tissue. It wasn’t a gallant handkerchief, the type that would have been offered by a gentleman. No, just a kleenex, offered to you by a Mom. I hoped you wouldn’t take offense. You didn’t. A conversation started during rush hour traffic on the freeway, and continued through the backstreets of Los Angeles. You were searching for comfort and reassurance and I, feeling the echo of an empty nest, was willing to provide it. You’d just dropped your mother off at LAX. A three week vacation of hiking, going to the beach, and many smiles had ended. She was on her way back to Scotland.
You missed her the minute you had to get back on the bus, and now, on the ride back, the future tumbled through your mind. Would you move back? You couldn’t, really. Would she move here? She couldn’t, really. All these poignant questions loomed over you like a sad cloud.
To miss someone is a horrible thing. To miss your mother? Ah, that’s the stuff of poetry. So all I could tell you was that things have a way of working out. I hoped I didn’t sound so trite. But the truth is, your mother is always with you. You’re riding on this incredible wave of love, given to you from her. She instilled the courage in you to pick up stakes in Scotland, and move across the ocean (and then some) to the west coast. Your Mum is the reason you’ve been able to work through 2 states with one company, riding the opportunities they’ve given to you. Will you go, or will she come? There’s no way of knowing. The answer will be revealed to you over the years. Keep building bridges, and you’ll have more choices. Eventually, you’ll know. The uncertainty of the future is something that will always be hovering just above our heads. But love hard, be present, live, grow and learn. Things will work out.