My family left yesterday to fly back to their home country and I was devastated. I had a glimpse of what grieving was like and it was terrible. Nothing made me happy. The beautiful and warm sun on my skin at the beach could not fill the empty hole in my heart. And yet when I look back, I feel ashamed and guilty of how I felt when they first arrived.
But times have changed since then and I am no longer a stranger in this country. I have responsibilities and a life here. I have a husband and friends and a church and work, and I am so grateful for them all. Even though the busyness of this life can make the days of missing them shorter, it doesn’t take away the sharp and persistent pain of sadness that I go through every time they leave.