A few days ago I felt pissed-off, at a loss. Couldn't settle. Angry even. When attempting to pin down why this was, I realised I was feeling really very sad at the loss of years that have flown by since my son moved to the States. 10 years. It was his birthday, and I couldn't give him a hug. A simple thing, yet having to watch from afar his growth, becoming a husband and a father can feel, at times, like a little grief. Grief comes in many forms.
It can't be grasped, held, shaken, hugged. It's an emptiness that can't be filled.
Yet my son is happy, so I gather myself and hug that.