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[quote=Anonymous]I am a father.  The more you love something, the harder it hurts when it is gone.  While you will always have a son or a daughter, their childhood ends, and they are their own person after a certain point.  I loved being a father of children.  The days were filled with holding hands, walks to school, recitals, camping trips, piano lessons, homemade presents, playing board games, far-away vacation, pictures on the first day of school, sleep overs, and bed time stories.
There is so much written about the challenges of parenting.  None of them have been as painful as watching childhood fade away and saying goodbye.  This is the dirty secret of parenting no one talks.  Maybe I am too emotional, but this is killing me.  The space that my kids filled, the way they grew my heart, leaves a massive void when they are gone.  I don’t know how it can ever be filled in such a way again.  And don’t tell me woodworking, golf, or hiking.  Those are small substitutes for children who are fill with joy, wonder, and love for you.
Yes, I know they must grow and have their own lives.  It is what I want for them.  Yet, so far no one can convince me that there will as joyful days ahead as there were when my son asked me to lay in bed and tell a story, teaching them how to ride a bike, walking to school, singing around a campfire, building Legos, playing MarioKart with a bunch of kids.  Life must go on, but damn it hurts.
My daughter is 17 and starting her senior year.  She is not a kid anymore.  She has a boyfriend, marching band, AP classes, sports, and a life of her own.  I am just a smaller part of it now.  She is with us and I love any moment she is in the house.  I am going to savor this last year my daughter is home. 
My son is 12. He has some boyhood in him.  I love it when he still runs around and acts silly.  He does not need bedtime stories, but he still likes my company.  I am going to savor what I have before it is gone. 
Yet, I am on the verge of depression.  My house, like most houses, is filled with family photos from all ages, and decorated with their artwork.  When I stop and look at those photos, I get on the verge of tears.  I loved those days and they are never coming back.  Yes, I am glad I had them, but I think I need help.  
Is there a Northern Virginia group for people like us?  Should I start one?
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