Who authorized this? by Sarah Penrod

My 3 children are grown.  They are my very favorite people on the planet.  I’m crazy proud of each of them for different reasons.  My kids laugh at me because I am the biggest sap alive.  I cry over everything they do, not in a sad way, but very happy.  We went to Disneyland on Christmas Day a couple of years ago, and when we were watching the Electric Parade and seeing the “snow’ (really soap bubbles), and I completely burst into tears, sobbing, could barely stand up.  Of course they were shocked and very concerned until I managed to squeak out that I was crying because I was completely happy.  It was a perfect moment and it completely overwhelmed me.  Once they realized I was okay, they all laughed and hugged me. 

One of the reasons it was a perfect moment is because we all live scattered across the country.  At one point I had a kid in New York, one in Iowa, and one in Oregon.  Being a coast to coast mom is not my idea of fun.  I don’t get to see my kids every day.  I realize that sounds clingy and obsessive, but think about it for a minute.  How can you live with someone for 18 years, experience every single moment of their lives from birth on, see them 24 hours a day for several of those years, and then suddenly, POOF.  You don’t get to hug them, or hold their hand when they are upset.  You don’t get to feel the curve of their cheek in your hand as you look at them and see a glimpse of your mom and dad in their face.  It’s like having your heart amputated.  Tony Morrisson said that having a baby meant you had to be prepared to see your heart walking around outside of you.  The woman should get a Nobel Prize for being speaking the truest words ever.

Right now, I have one in Iowa, one in Texas (with my first grandbaby, which is a whole other issue), one still in Oregon (about to have my second grandbaby, again, a whole other issue).  I try to travel as much as possible, but I haven’t seen the one in Oregon for two years.  The pain this causes me is immeasurable.  I make phone calls, I email, I text.  None of these are a good substitute.  I can’t figure out who authorized this migratory pattern.  And why aren’t they returning to the nest like the swallows in Capistrano??  To be fair, it has been pointed out to me that I have moved 34 times, but I also made sure I visited home regularly.  But I still want to know, Who authorized this?

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2 thoughts on “Who authorized this? by Sarah Penrod

  1. Very touching Penrod! You are smart, funny and an excellent writer. Why the hell are you returning to your crappy job and not pursuing your true passion? I was hoping someday I see your name at the end of a film or a show. What do you have to loose?

  2. I love reading your story… really, you’re a granny?? Your kids are old enough to have babies??? In my mind they’re all still the same age they were when I visited out in Iowa, years ago.

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