Today I made plans to send my daughter thousands of miles away from me this summer to go to camp and visit family and friends. The physical distance we will have complements the emotional one that has crept insidiously into our relationship in the last few years.
The complexity of a teen daughter and mother relationship may be a common story, but it feels uncommon to me. My once sunny and amiable child turned into a young woman who is unfamiliar. Her moods are mercurial and usually sullen. And, while I know intellectually that this is part and parcel of raising a daughter, these moods still surprise me. And, I am not always proud of my reaction to them. Most of the time, I take the eye rolling, deep sighs, sassiness and back-talk in stride. Other times, I lash out, raising my voice and punctuate my anger and frustration with profanity.
The change did happen slowly. Perhaps this was Mother Nature’s way of giving me time to regulate, just as 9 months of pregnancy gave me time to adjust to the idea of becoming a Mother in the beginning of this journey. And the surprises that come with being a Mom have happened with some regularity since she was born.
Not the least of which was the surprise that I felt when I realized recently she is very much her own person; evidently, personality is not hereditary. I was a shy, reserved child. She is excited, nay, overjoyed at the prospect of being independent and meeting new people at the camp she will be attending on a lake in Maine. She cares not a whit that she will know no one.
Given all of the strife between us, you would think that I would be all too happy to send her away for a month. But, as I read the glowing online testimonials from other parents of children who attended this camp, my eyes welled. Soon, enough tears came that I was grateful no one poked their head into my office for a good half an hour this afternoon. The tears came from an overwhelming multitude of emotions. Pride – of the fact that I am able to provide her with this life experience and of her pluck. Happiness – for her as she has been pining for this experience for years. Mourning – a baby, a little girl she is no longer. And sadness – I will miss her dammit. She is the chunk of my heart that grew when she grew under it. When she leaves, she will painfully excise that vital piece of me and take it with her.
College looms, just 4 short measly years away. The passage of which she will spend pushing farther and farther away until that final leap out of my nest. I just hope that someone is ready to come over armed with a good bottle of chardonnay and a box of tissues in the Fall of 2014.
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