My little girl moved out this week. She is in her twenties but it still feels like a part of me has been torn out. I feel so very sad looking at her empty room and remembering all the fun things she and her little brother did when they were young. All the games they played. Reading them both bedtime stories (alternating rooms each night). Helping them set up little shops in the garden and then being their customer and giving them pennies for little things they were selling. Long summers spent in the garden. Lazy days at the beach. Christmas eve when I was Father Christmas leaving snowy boot prints all over the hearth and eating carrots and mince pies. Watching her grow into a teenager and then a young woman. Then came something I hadn't planned on....she became my best friend too and I hers. I miss her so much and yet it is right that she moves on. She is happy and has her own little house and loves it. All I can do is watch her blossom. I have no right to let her know how much I am hurting or how bereft I feel. That is not for her to take on......I just never realised how much it would hurt. Of course her little brother is still at home (early 20s) and he is now getting the full on Mothering from me ha ha.......they may get older but they are always your babies.