My middle daughter,
Rhiannon, is nearing the end of her junior year in high school. Her 17th birthday is in May. I find myself a bit melancholic about the coming senior year. I have done this before, said good bye to a daughter. She is my second daughter. Something about this feels different. It hurts already.
As we begin to plan for ACT/SAT's and gathering info on schools. Or making the appointment for her senior pictures or planning trips, or celebrating Christmas this year. I find myself thinking, wow, next year will be the last. It's so hard to let them go; when I look at her I still see that little girl.....
I see that little girl that started kindergarten at Mountain View in Mrs.
Bates' class with her bright pink backpack. She was so ready to be rid of me! I thought oh yea she'll cry she won't want me to leave her! Please are you kidding? She lovingly and loyally gave her mommy a hug and a kiss and walked up to her teacher, briefly looking back at me, to see if I was OK, I think. She looked just long enough to sear it into my memory. I was the only one crying. Now I wonder if she will do the same when I leave her in her dorm room. I think it will be me looking back on her brief stay under my wing while I see before me the beautiful, smart, brave, adventurous young woman she has become.
I think she is ready. I think, anyway. I mean I do still have one last year to soften up the edges right? Her time with me has been thrilling and tiring, full of tears and pride. Well, and yes, if you have girls you know it's been full of snotty little looks and sighs. Tons of drama, slamming doors, the ever loving pronunciation of MUUUUTHER, broken hearts from boys, first formal at Sagewood, and her first homecoming at Ponderosa, and even her first prom last year. Cheerleading drama....did I mention cheer drama? A black belt in Tae Kwon Do that she achieved in 7 th grade which should comfort me, I guess, I know she will be safe when the day comes to leave her....hopefully!
I have always felt from the moment my first child was born that every single thing a child does from the moment they are conceived is to learn how to live without us. I have always felt like they were never really mine. No, not that they were adopted, a story that Rhiannon's big sister loved to torture her with. I mean I have always felt so blessed and lucky and loved by God that I would be trusted enough to be given a miracle. I just wanted to raise girls that were strong and independent but kind and open.
Every time they say I can't do it mom....they hear...stop it....there is nothing worse than a helpless girl. They started making their own lunches in 3 rd grade. They were putting their own laundry away at probably 4, doing their own laundry easily by 6 th grade. They had jobs at 15, paid for half of their cell phone bills, even bought most of their clothes after about 8 th grade.
Each contributed to half of the cost of their cars. They both learned to drive 5 speeds before automatics.
Rhiannon has always had such wanderlust. She could maneuver, alone, through an airport from about 11 on....Now that I am getting her ready to leave me I am feeling pretty confident that she can maneuver well through life. This year will be a gentle easing of my heart. I know she will chase her dreams and I know she knows the road home. I'm going to try and take this last year in and enjoy watching her get her feet wet at this being an adult thing....
And yes...when she loyally and lovingly kisses and hugs me good bye as we stand in her dorm room.....she will say I love you mommy and I will say I love you too, baby. I will smile at her and gracefully walk out.....get in the car.....and BAWL AND BAWL......and then have a few drinks to celebrate that now I have two down and one to go!
Before you were conceived I wanted you
Before you were born I loved you
Before you were here an hour I would die for you
This is the miracle of life.
Maureen Hawkins