For some reason this particular back-to-school seems harder than the others. Oh, no doubt I had plenty of days full of angst where my daughter going off to something on her own is concerned. Her first day of daycare at 3 months old for instance, when I left her in the caring hands of my sister-in-law and went home to get ready for my first day back at work only to discover that my car wouldn't start. I was living with my parents at the time. I came back into the house, sat down on the living room sofa and proceeded to cry. My mother admonished me for crying with the lovely epitaph of "What would have happened if I cried everytime something went wrong in my life?" Nice.
My father, who had had had a stroke a few years earlier, sat down on the sofa, put his arm around me and told me he was sorry that he wasn't able to fix things for me like he once had been able to do.
As usual, I got a little bit of what I needed from both of my parents. So I bucked up and called AAA, got my car going and went off to a job that I dispised so I could support that little baby girl that I had never even spent an hour away from since her birth.
A few months later my parents encouraged me to quit my job so I could go back to school and have a lot more time with my daughter. What a blessing that was. I could never thank my parents enough for that.
For so many years now I've had to be like "Sybil" (minus about 16 other personalities) and try to be both mother and father to my daughter, and I was faced with this challenge again at the end of last semester. My daughter didn't do too well in her second semester of her Sophomore year; in fact, she failed Geometry, and the rest of her grades were the worst she has ever brought home. Part of me reacted by being my mother, the realist, but there is always that dad part of me that wants to make everything better for her. I suppose this is the challenge of most single parents, having to be the good, bad, and ugly in all scenarios.
Yet, in the midst of my dipair, in gallops my husband, Julia's step-father, still grieving his mother's death and taking care of his ailing father, telling me that it would be best if she spent the summer with him, working in his business in California, hoping that it might teach her some fortitude and what life is really about. So, she has been gone this entire summer. In the past 16 years I have never been away from my daughter for more than 5 days at a time. In the past 3 months I have seen her maybe 5 days in total. But, she's back now, better than ever, more focused and ready to have a successful last 2 years of high school. And the optimist in me believes her completely, and without hesitation. Best of all, she and my husband have a very special relationship now; the best payoff of all, if you ask me.
Tonight I feel sad that I missed so much of the past few months with her while she matured, but I now realize that it was necessary for her to be gone because part of the reason she wasn't getting anywhere was due to my always wanting to make it all better. I guess I don't play my mother's role as well as I wished I could, and more often than not teeter to the side of my dad, the big softy.
I also am a bit melancholy because I know in the blink of an eye I will be cheering her on at her graduation, helping her sort out which college she wants to attend (hey, I can dream, can't I?), helping her choose a wedding dress, welcoming grandchildren, etc. It's just all going faster and faster, and it seems the only things that stand out are the regrets I have.
As with much of my life lately, though, I'm shifting gears and trying to see the brighter side, and will be focusing on making happy memories that will stand out like a lighthouse in the fog of life's tougher times.
So, off she goes again, my most joyous, wonderful little girl; this time a little more prepared than the last.
I love that picture of Julia (both of them actually) She looks so grown up and so much like you at that age!
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Susan