Child at heart

In case people don't know, I am a teacher. And I love it. Like 95% of the time.

But that's not the point of this blog entry. Yesterday I was on playground duty, and one of the primary school girls was a bit upset.

I asked what was wrong, and she didn't want to tell me (which is fine, but I was still worried). So I asked two of the older girls to go check up on her and see if they could find out what was wrong.

And when they told me, my heart broke a little. The little girl's mum had been at the school and had just left, and she missed her mum.

And even at 21, I 100% get that feeling.

I've just moved out of home for the first time this year, four hours (at elast- depending on route, traffic and weather) from my family and friends. And although when I was home there were times (many times) when my entire family annoyed me to no end and I wished I was 4 hours away, there's times I miss them so much I could (and have) cried.

My dad helped me move out here and stayed for a few days. When he left, I cried. Same when my parents came to visit for the weekend a week or two later. I cried like a baby when they left.

And part of it is their fault. Although I know my parents love me, no one in our family says it a lot. In writing, on birthday cards and such, yes. Not so much verbally.
But since I've moved out, phone conversations and visits finish with an "I love you."
And as I quite like saying/hearing these words, I am moved to tears quite frequently.

But I think there's that part of us when our parents leave us, that we still feel like a 5 year old whos been abandoned. 'Why are you leaving me?'

Or is that just me?