I wish Dot was young enough for me to do things for her. To wrap my arms around her and protect her from the world. To care for her and take care of things for her.
But she’s a young adult, now. And I can’t live her life. I have to let her go into the world, in little tiny, dangerous baby steps.
I want to save her from certain memories. To be the kind of parent that pushes back when their child is bullied or looked down upon. I want to take her heartache as my own, and keep her from ever wanting to cry these tears.
I want to be successful enough to give her a job so she never feels rejection in the workforce. I want to give her training and life skills without fear of failure or condemnation. But I can’t. She has to search and search until someone takes a chance and hires her.
I want to choose her friends, her loves, her hobbies, her responsibilities. I want her to grow into the woman I know she will be, without getting hurt in the process.
I want to shelter her.
But I can’t.
And my heart still breaks for her.
I love that she’s old enough to have grown-up conversations with. I adore being in the kitchen with her as we experiment with new flavors. She has a sense of humor that she saves mostly for her friends, but now and then I’m allowed a glimpse.
My child makes me proud. And I want to scream at the world because the world doesn’t get her yet. Stop breaking her heart! Give her a job! Let her be!
But life is full of hard knocks and whatnot, and she’s only to grow if I let her experience them for herself.
I want her to be the successful young woman I know she is. I want the world to recognize what I already see in her. I want her to feel comfortable spreading her wings to fly.
I wish I was a helicopter mom and could do the flying for her. But since I can’t, I can only nudge her in the right direction and hope she understands. I can only be an example that I hope she chooses to follow. And I can only hope, in some ways, she’s smarter than me and will find her own way, a better way for herself.
As long she still calls me “Momma”.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
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