Distance. You’re used to having your children near you, with you, around you, surrounding you.

Then the day comes when they move out and you’re faced with: distance.

My older daughter, Anna, has moved to LA. She started a summer session at college to get familiar with her new surroundings and new life.

We live in San Francisco.

Clearly, we are experiencing the distance. 361 miles to be exact (according to Google Maps). This distance doesn’t seem to be too difficult to overcome. You can drive down, or fly down quite easily. It’s a 5 and a half hour drive or a quick flight; only one hour from SFO to LAX.

I’m a single mother working full time. I have a younger daughter, Klara, who is still living at home (until she moves to college in a couple of days).

When I get a phone call from my older daughter that she is not feeling well, has right sided muscle weakness and decreased sensation in her limbs, I’m faced with the dilemma: do I rush down to LA to be by her side or do I wait by the phone, while she’s in the ER for 12 hours, and pray to God that she will not be diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis or a brain tumor?

I decide to stay and wait to see what the doctors say. If they find something serious then I’ll hop on a plane, leave my younger one to fend for herself, and go take care of Anna.

Of course, I think to myself that IF their father would be living with us, we could divide and conquer. One of us could stay with Klara, and the other could go down and make sure that Anna is OK.

But I have two daughters, one who is preparing to leave home, and one who is far from home ill and in the ER. And I’m by myself.

I can’t be in two places at the same time (wouldn’t it be wonderful to instantaneously teleport, ie. apparate, from one place to another, like in the Harry Potter books? Why can’t technology solve these mundane needs?).

My daughters have learned that things cannot always be taken care of as easily as if they would have two parents living at home. The logistics of solving a situation are much more complicated and difficult; for me and also for them.

It’s a huge step for Anna, who has to sit alone for 12 hours in the ER (although luckily her friend stays with her for the first 3 hours). She has to talk to the doctors, figure out the system, get a cab home. For her this is an enormous step towards experiencing adulthood and independence. And the distance. My heart bleeds for her, my anxieties are intense; but I can’t overcome the distance.

Distance: from her mother, comfort, safety, and a big hug telling her that everything will be OK.

p.s. For those of you who are worried: the brain scan is negative! They let her go home at 3 am in the morning. She’ll see a doctor tomorrow for further evaluation but what I feared the most, a lesion or bleeding in her brain, was not found. Thank God!