Wednesday, April 7, 2010

As she teeters on the edge, my grip tightens, desperately. Frantically, I grasp at anything that will keep her from slipping. My struggle seems to slow, like the time I did CPR on my infant brother. Minutes stretch to eternities, and even though I see where she is headed, there is nothing I can do to stop it. I scream inside, I plead, I dangle anything I can to lure her away, but still, she tip-toes, elated to be on the ledge... and it is narrowing. She will fall, soon and there will be nothing I can do but watch... My heart is racing and tears spill, but there is no changing the future.

I hate that it feels like this! Why is this part of my daughter's life so traumatic to me? People do this everyday, but as I type, my throat is closing off and I am shaking and forcing myself to breathe slowly.

K has every opportunity before her. She has worked so hard and deserves every good thing, but I just want to hold her on my lap and rock... hold them all on my lap and rock and read and sing. She has proved herself good and disciplined and faithful. All important, but still, I hold on, too tight. Her world will expand, soon. I see her dreaming and hoping and planning and hope the dreams and hopes and plans all come to be a reality exceeding what she envisions.

For now, I cannot bring myself to pay a housing deposit. I hold on too tight.


Paul and Jenny Stoker said...

OK JEN! I really thought one of your girls was in an accident when I started reading. You freaked me out. But it turned out good so I forgive you.

Kristin said...

Oh sweet Jenny. I'm so sorry that it is so hard to let go. But I know that you are not alone in your feelings. Do you think it was hard for Heavenly Father to watch us leave His side when we were so excited for our upcoming adventures on earth? I wonder. You are a fabulous mother and you have raised a magnificent daughter. I'm sure the next stage will bring you just as much joy as those first stages of constant nurturing. (at least I hope so, since it is headed my way) I wish we saw each other more often so we could "talk" and commiserate like old times. You are the best! Love ya, Kristin

jen said...

I read your post yesterday while T and K were out back playing with Micah and Lily, and I've been thinking about it ever since. I wanted to post something profound, something comforting, something spectacular that you could look to and make it go away.

But there's nothing I can say, nothing I can do that will make this different. I think children leaving the nest, especially the first, is the unspoken curse of motherhood, and until you reach that stage, no one tells you how excruciating it is. Either that or we just don't hear it until we're there.
Just know I'm thinking of you.
And it hurts. I know.