Fiona Highet is working on a play in Winnipeg while her family’s in Toronto
The goodbye was torture. Next time I’ll leave under cover of night. The day was all about waiting – straight out of The Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss – we spent the day in the waiting place.
I was weepy all day, as was my daughter. Poor thing: a cold and a few bad sleeps compounded to make her especially tender and she spent the day in and out of tears, hugging me and demanding to be told “one good reason” why she couldn’t come with me to Winnipeg. She ran after the taxi blowing kisses and I cried all the way out to the airport.
My darling son, whose warm strong body and easy laugh I cannot imagine six weeks without, gave me a hug and returned to playing with his cousin. When I called out a final goodbye, he sent back a sing-song “ok goodnight”. I’m sure he’ll miss me sometime…
