The other half of my grandchildren moved to Montana on Saturday. There are no more grandchildren who live within 900 miles of me. To say my heart is broken is an understatement. I always wondered how long-distance grandparents did it, now I will find out. It is good for them, and so I must be happy for them. But my God, this is awful.
My first reaction when I heard they were leaving was: I will retire to Montana. I need to be near my kids. Over the weekend, I did some research on AA meetings and Catholic Churches in the little town I am considering. The church looks fabulous. There are two AA meetings a week, and one happens to be in the Catholic Church basement. And I had this overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be the “new girl” at this age. Or ever. At church or in AA. I don’t want to learn new grocery stores, new yarn stores, new people.
What I thought would be just aint happening.
Ten years ago, I was the matriarch. But the little ones are gone. I will be someone who visits once or twice a year.
I will adjust to the new reality, but I haven’t yet.
My heart is broken. God help us all. Please.