I realized today that the crying is lessening. One week and two days have passed since I put my third son, the exact middle child of my five, on an airplane to Brazil. Before, I wasn’t crying necessarily because I missed him because he’s gone away to camp for longer than he’s been gone, but the loss of childhood… because surely after a year in Brazil, not only will he be a changed person, he will most definitely be a man. But time passes, and here, a week later, I am already moving from the mourning phase to the acceptance phase. He’s OK. He likes the people. He likes the food. He has a personal trainer, and the family he is currently staying with has a maid. Life is definitely good for this boy of mine. The Rotary Club warned him, and us, that homesickness will most likely set in around the three week mark, so now I wait to see if he follows the norm. Honestly, I don’t want him to be homesick. I want him to soak up every moment and life experience while he is there, but the fact is that I think he will soon start to learn the common threads that tie all of humanity together- we live, we care for our families, we love, we die. We are the same, and probably in that new realization, the day to day life in a different country might lose it’s luster because it will become everyday. But, there will still be new moments and adventures to be had, they just won’t come on a daily basis.