I remember the day before I left home for the first time to spend the whole week in the boarding school.
I was fifteen. Even as a small kid I learned to cry over every bump and bruise. No problem there. Emotions were something completely different. Even when I was not such a small kid. If something made me sad, I got stuck with that thought which was rolling over and over again in my head and almost made it spin. It didn't because I had that outlet - a flow of tears that would pour like rain and wouldn't stop.
I cried and my mum tried to make me feel better. I knew I was going to be homesick. She said it was not forever, I'd be coming home every week which I also knew.
"But I'll never ever be really home again. Like I don't live here any more! Only weekends, some days off and holidays and after four years I'll go some place else, but never really live here the way I have till now."
I was sobbing, but managed to put those words together and sure enough, made my mum cry, too.
The following day I just packed and took the bus to school. No more tears. I spent them the night before and almost drove my mother crazy. There were some in the first, maybe the second week and I wasn't the only one.
I was luckier when my kids grew old enough to go to high school. One attended the school in our town an walked there and back. I take the other one to the train station every morning and he also comes back in the afternoon. It means he can stay at home for two more years or so.
Not that I don't know they're supposed to fly away. Sure I do. My oldest has been at the university for a year and a half now in a city 200 kilometres away. Lucky me, she still comes home every weekend.
And THIS is what makes Sundays different. Ironing clothes so that she can pack them. Talking about it and planning the week. How lucky I am to live in the era when I can just make a step or two to our computer and type her a few words and she types something right back! Or we can use the cell phone to hear each other.
How lucky I am that she is not annoyed by all this. Well, I don't think I'm fussy or bothering all the time. No, not me. And sometimes she writes those few words before I do. So she doesn't mind. So am I lucky or what? Lucky lucky lucky.
- I'm going.
- When will I see you?
- On Thursday. A class is cancelled for Friday.