When #Reality slaps you in the face….

I’ve been a mother for 27 years. And although my daughter is the same age, she will, always in my mind, be my baby.

But…

On a car ride home from a New Year’s Eve party and a discussion about another party she and her man were going to, I pulled out all the mom stops – because it’s what I do. A mini-lecture on driving on hazardous, snowy roads, not getting behind the wheel if either of them had been drinking, promises to text when arriving and leaving were all accompanied by heavy sighs and quiet a few gasps of indignation…from my daughter.

Then she said something that put everything into perspective for me.

“You know,”  she quipped, “You were married at my age. Did anyone say these things to you?”

Utter silence in the car. Then, tears started to swell up in my eyes when I realized what she was telling me. Something I guess I’ve never accepted, wanted to accept, or thought about, really.

My baby was no more. She was a grown-ass woman, more intelligent than I’ll ever be, and responsible for her decisions, actions, and thoughts. My job as the voice in her head is done. I’d raised her; instilled in her a moral and ethical code; educated her both mentally and spiritually. I’d given her roots and wings, a shoulder to cry and lean on if needed, and the where-with-all to problem solve, conceptualize, and theorize.

She lives on her own in a city one thousand times larger than the town she grew up in; commutes every day to a powerful job using public transportation, pays rent, supports herself, and travels all around the world….without me holding her hand.

She doesn’t need her mommie telling her what to do. She doesn’t need my reminders for safety. And she certainly doesn’t need me second guessing her actions and decisions.

Damn…

When does your baby stop being your baby? When can you mentally let the little child who used to reach for your hand, unbidden, when walking on the street, forge ahead on her own? Not want to reach out and protect her from every bad thing that could potentially happen? Keep her safe, and snug, and protected? When can your heart follow your head and say everything will be okay, don’t worry, keep calm?

Does it ever? Can it ever?

So, after I dried the tears, I said the one thing that I’d never thought I’d hear myself say, hear myself think: “Okay. You’re a grown-ass woman, not a two-year-old. I’ll stop. And I’ll respect your maturity. Truly.”

And I will.

But there’s still that little niggle deep inside that wants her to reach out and hold my hand….

 

Advertisements

5 Comments

Filed under Author, Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, Life challenges, Strong Women

5 responses to “When #Reality slaps you in the face….

  1. Sandra Dailey

    I’m not going to tell you what my childhood was like. It’s a long ugly story. But when I did have two children in one year I wasn’t at all prepared. I had no clue how to be a mom. As it turned out, they’ve learned to adult much better than I have. They know my story and understand why I’m screwed up. Sometimes I think they try to protect me more than I do them. We all have our own lives and love each other madly.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Peggy, I too am the mother of a grown daughter. Sometimes I hear the wrong words coming out of my mouth even before I speak them. Sometimes I can hold them back–and sometimes I indulge the inner Mommy. When I do, she just smiles at me because she knows at heart I trust her implicitly. My love and concern are a reassurance–on both sides. She knows she’ll always be loved and I know I must have done something right!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Peggy Jaeger

    Laura _ i think that’s the way of wonderful daughters!!! mine is like that as well, but there are times I just can’t help hearing my own mother’s voice come out of my mouth! Hee Hee

    Like

  4. Oh, yes! ‘Tis the season for reverting to Mom mode. I did the same thing with my son who does not take such things well. I guess one of my resolutions will have to be to bite my tongue when I am tempted to give unsolicited advice to my younglings. But it’s good to know I’m not the only one clinging to the image of my babies long after they have grown up. Good luck 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Peggy Jaeger

    Sorchia – clinging is the correct word! As is – holding on as if your life depended on it!!! Never letting go. And even wishing they were one hour old again!!! Ahhhh. motherhood….

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s