2010/09/07

Passages

DaGoddess @ 16:30

Brad’s eldest just his first tooth. I find myself tearing up over this milestone because I remember both my kids at that age and it seems like just yesterday.

Time is a thief, I tell ya. It steals away all the moments we have yet to share with our children. Yes, it also provides for the moments we’ve had, but it takes away just as much in the process.

My comment on RER went something like this:

It’s a tough one, this growing up business is. Every step is a double edged sword. We’re proud our children have reached each milestone, but devastated that it strips away another layer, another cord that binds us to one another.

Your boy’s smile is as beautiful as it is bittersweet…for all of us. Watching him grow up reminds us that time slips away for all of us, for our children as well.

While back in San Diego 10 days ago or thereabouts, I saw Carson, my mom’s neighbor’s son. He was no longer the little boy with the Harry Potter glasses. He was this tall young man who was long and lean as a string bean. Riding a skateboard with the ease of someone who’s been at that for years. His shock of blond hair catching the golden sun. He wasn’t that little boy anymore. He is now Carson the young man. Already on his second car. Working hard at two jobs that he really likes, going to his first college classes.

I look at my own children and lament the passing of time, the moments that have flown by. My son still has a few more years of being a kid, I hope. My daughter has already moved into another phase of her life (for ill or for good, and right now it’s not good)…a phase where none of us matter to her. I miss the days when she was small enough to hold in my arms, and even if I couldn’t calm her enough to stop her crying, at least I knew I had done everything I could to ease her pain or provide for her needs. She still needs to be held, but won’t let anyone near her. And ah, yes, this is where it becomes obvious that this is a post for my blog and no longer a comment for yours.

Cherish every tooth and every smile, Otis.

My girl is crying out for help right now. No longer can I simply bundle her up, keeping her bottom warm and dry, providing all the nourishment she requires, rocking her until she falls asleep. I can’t do it. We can’t go backwards.

As difficult as it is, I have to let her walk the bumpy path she’s chosen for herself. I have to let her tears fall. I have to let her find her own way. This is her choice. But it breaks my heart to know that it doesn’t have to be this way. It breaks my heart that she has chosen the toughest road and made it even more difficult for herself. It hurts, deeply, to know that it hurts others, too. I can’t fix any of it. I can’t make any of it better.

Time steals from us the ability to wrap our arms around our children and hold them close, protecting them from the harshness that life has in store for them. At the same time, I know that it is part of the journey we all make. I just don’t have to like it, do I?

The thief we call time doesn’t allow us to jump forward and avoid any of this, to get to the good parts. The parts where we’ve hurt and been hurt, the parts where we break and crumble and then rebuild. We can’t just skip ahead to the laughter and fun. We must deal with all that life throws our way. Nor can I turn around and witness the first lost tooth again, the first time we let go the back of the bicycle, the time when I was no longer needed to be the steady hand as Mojo figured out how to skate. I don’t get that back. Nor do I get to jump ahead. Right now I have to sit and wait and hope and pray that the good Lord is carrying my girl toward a happier future.

That’s all I can do anymore. Pray. Pray for her safety. Pray for the wisdom to say the right thing, to do the right thing, to just be here when she needs me. And I pray for her to discover the wisdom to get back on track, to choose a better path, to listen to those who know and who can help, and to just be safe.

We are tasked with this business of life. We are all just trying to figure it out. The passages, the milestones are there for all of us to experience. We simply all find them and forge ahead on our own and in our own time. It’s a little Hell on wheels sometimes, but we keep trudging ahead.

5 Comments

  1. If we don’t make mistakes, we don’t learn. But it can be heart rending for those we love to watch the process.

    Would that we could take the pain instead, but it would almost be like robbing them of a critical part of life.

    I’m praying for your girl and for you all. :hug:

    Comment by Pam — 2010/09/07 @ 17:17

  2. Thank you, Pam. THANK YOU!

    Comment by DaGoddess — 2010/09/07 @ 17:34

  3. I will say a little prayer for your daughter. I know how hard it is to sit and watch them make choices that are not so great,I do it every day.It was so much easier when they were little,and we could make the right choices for them.

    Comment by karen — 2010/09/07 @ 18:35

  4. Praying for her and for you…but if you don’t let her stumble now, she’ll never be what she has the potential to become. Picking yourself up is what makes you an adult. (Even though you just want to gather them up and kiss all the boo-boos away…)

    Comment by Mrs. Who — 2010/09/07 @ 20:47

  5. Hope everything works out. (And thank goodness I only have cats!)
    :hug:

    Comment by Jan — 2010/09/08 @ 08:08

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