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Summer is coming. That time of year that fills children with glee and adults with a hammock swingin' malaise. For me, I feel a heart tightening ache. My son will be leaving soon for nine weeks. Nine weeks without his tail spinning Pokemon adventures. Nine weeks without his arms tight around my neck. Nine weeks without battles over meals and chores and television. Nine weeks without standing in his doorway watching his chest rise and fall with the motion of his dreaming. Nine weeks.
Mother love is deep and wide and sometimes it hurts. I watch him grow into the eight year old who only steals a hug and kiss when I drop him off at school, in a corridor where noone is watching. An eight year old, who is moving into a social sphere, experimenting with friendships and how they operate- who is growing out of the little boy. Nine weeks seems like a long time to miss in his fast-forward life.
Nine weeks.

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