Here are Aidan, Dylan and Zaira way before dawn today, as I saw them off to Missoula, Montana. You can see my youngest son is signaling thumbs-up. They had so much nervous energy, on so little sleep, that it was bound to be an emotional moment.
Not to mention their parents.
At SFO, Zaira's Mom was a mess, crying uncontrollably. Her Dad, who I had not met before, was stoic.
As I approached him, and shook his hand, here is what I said:
"Lo siento mucho, pero no hablo Espanol muy bien."
He smiled and said, "That's okay, I don't speak English very well."
Everyone hugged, and her parents left.
I went inside the terminal, to be there in case there were any problems with their luggage. Then, when there weren't any problems (thanks to Zaira) I saw them to the security gate.
When I lost it was when I hugged Aidan , Dylan and Zaira good-bye. Too many tears.
On my way home, driving the 101, I thought about what those tears were about. Part of it is pride -- you work so hard to raise good kids and when they turn out the way these ones have, and all six of kids have, you are proud uncontrollably, from an emotional perspective.
But part of it also is selfish. I will miss having them them around. They are among the best friends I have ever had.
But to be a good parent you have to let your kids go. It's up to me to fill the huge holes their leaving have created.
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