Tomorrow I travel to the far north to pick up my girl. I haven't seen my daughter Katie since I put her on a plane July 5. She's living with her father and step mother and their other children in Parker, Colorado which is on of the many suburbs of Denver. I'm starting to get used to her absence, not comfortable but more like an amputee. Yes, I can get around and I'm learning to compensate for my missing limb but what wouldn't I give to have that piece of myself back. I've talked to other women whose daughters moved away from them as teenagers. They all say their relationships changed for the better, their girls all came back to them. I don't necessarily expect this but it doesn't change the quality of the longing.
I'm reading the biography of Dame Freya Stark who started traveling in the middle east in the 1920's at the age of 36 and wrote about the religions and cultures she found there. There's a wonderful quote from one of her letters about the nature of relationships
One is apt to think of people's affection as a fixed quantity, instead of a sort of moving sea with the tide always going out or coming in but still fundamentally there: and I believe this difficulty in making allowance for the tide is the reason for half the broken freindsips.
So perhaps this is the key to the cultivation of love. Keeping the bonds loose enough to allow for movement.