Last year when Taylor left for camp, I knew it would be challenging to be without her. I just didn’t realize how much it would hurt – nor how keenly the realization of her growing up and away from me would sting.
I pretty much melted down the Monday after she left last summer, while I was getting ready for work. Once I was at my (wonderful) place of employment that morning, I decided (given my puffy, swollen face and my inability to string a sentence together without dissolving into tears) that I would take refuge in an empty cubicle in another building (close to my core team, but far away from my cross-functional teams that I typically work with on a day-to-day basis.) One of my co-workers patiently spoke to me through the cubicle wall. “Are you okay?” she whispered. The only response I could muster on that day was, “I.Don’t.Wanna.Talk.”
My disposition did improve slightly over the ensuing days. I knew that my daughter was having fun, having new experiences, making friends from around the globe and gaining the all-too-important confidence necessary for navigating this life on her own.
A few weeks later, when Donnie and I flew to New York City to see my (our) daughter after her stay at camp, the week in Maine with family and friends and then the few days with one of my best friends in NYC, I could barely contain myself. I knew that my feeling was rightfully one sided…but I was still looking forward to being able to embrace her, to see her.
My Mommy (somewhat-worthy-of-therapist-couch) neuroses were apparent when Donnie and I exited the plane at the Airport. I started to sprint for a cab. Donnie had other ideas. He decided that he needed a coffee at an airport vendor. I stood beside him…tapping my foot and glaring at him. “Really?!?” I said, “Can’t you wait???” My subsequent reunion with my daughter was tearful. (on my part, of course)
I realized soon after that I would have to steel myself for the future.
And part of that future is now just a few days away.
Taylor loved camp so very much. And, was completely committed to going back for a longer stretch of time. Initially, I wanted her to work for it.
Then, after she got into the academic-heavy program at her High School, I told her I would pay…as long as she had all As and Bs. She met her academic requirements, even in the College course she has taken this year as a High School Freshman. So I paid (quite a price) for her to attend camp this summer for 5 weeks.
Now we are 14 days from her departing for camp in Maine. The camp is old-fashioned and eschews cell phones, computers and television. They encourage being outdoors, swimming, boating, archery and creativity. This is all lofty and good, but, I can’t talk to her during her stint at camp. I can send one way e-mails and she can send snail mail. And, I won’t see her. Nothing, nada from June 12th until July 15th.
As I have stated before, this feels like a dress rehearsal for the final flight from the nest. I believe that it is because of that knowledge that I have become somewhat clingy and a bit teary in recent days.
Where has the time gone?
It seems like only yesterday I was trying on the term ‘daughter’ and introducing the idea into my everyday life and lexicon.
I baked birthday cakes for her and decorated them. I spent long lovely evenings with her – when it was just the two of us – cooking or ordering takeout, watching movies and cuddling. I was there when she learned how to walk, speak, shop, swim, fish and negotiate. Ages 2 through 9 were dreamy and wonderful. Ages 10 through 14…notsomuch, but all part of the ride.
Through the past 16 years of our shared life, she has been there…traveling this journey with me. Now she is taking that first tentative step out of our safe nest practicing for the final flight.
As am I.
She’ll be back after 5 weeks. And I know that the next time she leaves, it’ll be for good.
While I feel bereft and oh-so-very-sad at the thought, I am also feeling my heart expand with pride. I know I have tried my damndest to be a really good Mom and I know that she is a great daughter. She is brave, (braver than I was) smart, (smarter than I am…but please don’t tell her) and incredibly empathetic. (Towards humans and animals alike.)
As certain as the tides change, she will continue to grow towards her future. I will continue to try my best to grow as a parent alongside of her.
There are just three more High School years…then I imagine, she is off to college.
I am quite sure that this will not be my last post about Tay leaving…but I would love to hear from others who have survived not only the tumultuous teens, but those who have also then been smacked, painfully, upside the head and heart with the reality of the soon-to-come empty nest.
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