It is a strange feeling, driving away from your daughter after moving her into her first apartment. Of course I can't really conceptualize what it would feel like to have a child die, but I consider what that might be like as I leave my daughter to her own choices, and let go of the parenting reigns. I know, this sounds overly dramatic.
However big moments or life changing events have always been melancholy for me. It is as though I stand at the cross roads of what could be one outcome or another. I look back upon the road already traveled and marvel on the wonderful opportunities I have had and the experiences I have been given that truly have changed the woman I have become. I mourn the loss of what leaving behind these years, experiences, and friends have taught me.
I can't see beyond the bend of the life road ahead, but I desire to move forward and learn and grow. I love having new experiences, and I know there is a choice that must be made to continue on my life's path without becoming stagnant. Interestingly, I often know that one choice is absolutely right for me, but I stand at the cross roads and remember how I came to this place and know that I am saying goodbye.As I wonder how my girls are fairing at college, I remember the tiny little girl that was placed in my arms 18 years ago, full of light, and possibility. I wonder if I have taught her all she will need to know, if she will remember that God hears her and loves her--no matter what she has or has not done. I think about being home myself, a different reality than perhaps four years ago.
If you don't have an 18 + child who lives away from home, take a minute and conceptualize. Since the moment that tiny,soft, fragile little baby was placed in your arms, it has been your job to protect, teach, and anticipate your child's future. You've prayed, struggled, loved, cheered, cried and negotiated for the best possible things for your child. Not only tangible things, but also also the intangible. Enduring tantrums, time-outs, curfews, friends and discipline to give your child the educational, social and spiritual tools to navigate the world as a contributing, passionate, loving adult.
Then comes the moment you relinquish the control, advice and help. You lovingly move boxes of things you've bought for her, see the mementos of memories of her childhood and leave them both in her new home to begin becoming the adult she is destined to become.
Your advice once needed, is now little by little, replaced by their accumulation of knowledge-- some based upon the experiences with you-- but some based upon new friends, and experiences that you are not a part of. In some ways this is disconcerting, because, well you've been in charge of her for her whole life and now you're not.
But in other ways this is reassuring. This is the way of life, the path to adulthood, and the only way for any of us to really learn what life is about; by becoming an adult ourselves. Being an adult sometimes means wishing you had made a better decision, and doing so next time around. It also means watching those you care about and love struggle with their own trials, choices and experiences. Helping when you can, and loving and praying when you can't. It means doing the right thing, even when you'd rather not.
In balancing my melancholy tone, I add that one of the biggest perks to being an adult is seeing your children growing and becoming amazing, incredible, strong, capable, caring adults themselves; even if that means they are taking steps away from you, down beyond the bend in the path ahead.
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