How to say Goodbye?

Almost seven years ago, our family was in an excited frenzy. We had been living in the United States for a year and a half and my parents were coming to join us the next day.
Our children had cleaned and tidied their bedrooms. Our whole house had been put into perfect order. The bathroom sparkled and smelled like summer lavender from the farm near Frog Rock.
I had spent the whole previous week picking up Brogan and carrying him with me as much as possible. He had almost started walking, and I had convinced myself that if I carried him he wouldn't learn how to walk! I wanted to keep him as much a "baby" as possible, until his Pappa and Grandma arrived. He was 10 months old and they hadn't yet seen him in person.
I had cooked a light vegetable soup for dinner the next night, in case they were too tired to eat something big. Eric wondered why I hadn't done too much shopping. I told him, that as soon as my mom was up to it, I wanted to take her to the Safeway on the island and show her the "American grocery store', with all the "American groceries" and to meet the "American people". He laughed indulgently about that.
That night Eric and I went to bed late, we could hardly sleep with excitement. He had been very instrumental in persuading my parents to join us here and he loved them like his own.
We got up early the next day. All the boys wore their best shirts and pants and Katy had slept with a zillion braids in her hair. We let them out and then tied the sides with tiny ribbons. "Grandma is going to be so surprised at how long my hair has gotten, Mama."
Then off we went to the airport to collect our precious family. When we saw my dad - tall above the crowd, and my mom in her turquoise suit next to him, Eric and I had tears on our cheeks. Timothy and Jethro, "There they are." Katy, "Pappa, Pappa!" And my dad, reaching toward Eric to take Brogan, his "new" grandson. Brogan didn't cry. He wasn't scared of this person he did not yet know. He looked at him, looked at me and then touched his Pappa's chin and smiled. "See, he knows me. He doesn't need anyone to tell him who I am, he just knows I'm his family, that I'm his Grandpa. Carol, look at how smart this child is!" And my mother pulled herself out of our embrace and went to see Brogan bonding with my dad.
On the way home at the ferry terminal, we introduced them to Starbucks - coffee like they could not believe existed. They did not know how to choose. Eventually, Eric chose for my dad, a grande decaf, hot, Irish cream latte - to become his forever favorite. My mom and I going for flavors that always define us - caramel and butterscotch.
And then home. Unpack, gifts, hot soup and bread. Exuberance, excitement, happiness, possibilities. A short trip around the community and into Safeway for some needed items - and an introduction to the most amazing people.
Later that evening, we all watched Brogan walking around, it was okay because he could grow and get big now, "cause Pappa and Grandma were here!
I don't know how to say goodbye tomorrow. We don't know yet if we will join them later, or if they will one day come back. But in the meantime, I don't know who will feel it worse. Them. Me. My kids. I'm trying really hard to prepare myself, but I'm just not doing a fine job.
I'll fill you in later.