Don't you miss your family and friends?

This is the fifth in a series of posts that I’m writing in answer to the questions I get asked the most.

"Don't you miss your family and friends?"

Of course, but I also missed them when I lived in the Lower 48.

I did not grow up in the same state as my grandparents, or the rest of my blood relatives. We saw them on holidays, but not necessarily every year. So, when I had children, it didn’t seem odd that their grandparents lived far away. I was raised with the spirit of following my own dreams, and I did. That path is not necessarily the one that my children chose. Now that they have their own lives and families, it does not seem odd for them to be far away. It’s simply how it is.

Since April left for college in Wisconsin, 3,000 miles away, at 17, I have seen her about every 18 months. That does not mean that I do not miss her. I adore her and am extremely proud of her for following her own dreams, which have taken her around the world and back again.

Following her high school sweetheart to Michigan, Sarah is even further away from me. It was very difficult not to be by her side as she endured a long labor with my first grandchild last spring. However, I was able to spend a wonderful 11 days with them as he turned two months old in June.

My girls and I keep in touch via text, Facebook, and Facetime. Technology is available now that I could have never dreamed of using with my own grandparents. It shortens the miles and tightens my grasp.

It’s a long story, but my sister, Holly, and I have never lived in the same state, we have always known a long-distance relationship, and it works for us.

The rest of my family have always lived far away and I have little communication with them. As for my friends, we are in closer contact than I am with my own children, sorry to say. I chat with my besties, Vicki, from Texas, and Ann, from Minnesota, almost every day online. I usually see them once a year, and we have a grand time. Meanwhile, we support each other from afar.

The accessibility of the internet, and the miracle of having it at the cabin, has actually strengthened my ties with those I care most about. I chat more often with cousins and friends from high school. Through the posting of pictures, we are able to see into one another’s lives. It’s quite remarkable.

I’m sure that if I lived next door to, or even in the same town as, my grown daughters, I would drive them crazy. We would drive each other crazy. Distance has its benefits. I am able to watch them through a lens with pride as they become wives, mothers, and independent women. I am able to choose my words more carefully, and sometimes even stop them altogether, when I worry about their choices. Time and time again, they prove to me that they’ve got this, sometimes to a point where I don’t feel needed. Those are the times that I miss them the most. How ironic life is.

Absolutely, if I could do some things differently, I would have gone to visit my dad more while he was on this earth. I learned a host of lessons when he suddenly passed away almost three years ago (it’s still so fresh that tears stream down my face as I type this). I learned that it’s important to go to where people live who are important to me. They want me to meet their friends; they want their friends to meet me. They want me to see their life, the new porch they built, flowers they planted, their favorite bakery. Because of this new insight, I have not taken a “vacation” in three years. Instead, I spend those dollars and days visiting people I love, in their homes, in their lives. It has been hugely rewarding, and I thank my father for teaching me that lesson.