Already Missing Her

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.

Cheering

A couple of years ago, when Tay was in the 6th Grade, she made the Cheerleading Squad at her Middle School.

Cheerleaders must not only lead the cheers during Basketball games in her school, but also maintain (as in most sports) a minimum grade point average, as well as exhibit exemplary behavior and be an all-round positive example for other students. Tay was so proud to be one of the few chosen to represent her school. She accepted her duties readily. She seemed to glow and mature with the responsibility.

As she was doing well in her mostly advanced and / or gifted classes, was (thankfully) a child who was cautious and steered well-clear of trouble and was a contentious all around “good kid,” the requirements to stay on the squad came easily to her.

After a bout of the flu, which resulted in her missing some practices, which in turn resulted in her Mom (me, natch) attempting to communicate with an uncommunicative coach, which resulted in some unfortunate conferences with the school staff…Tay was not able to be a Cheerleader the following year in her 7th Grade.

The story of what happened is long and convoluted. There were tears shed and teeth gnashed.

But, my persevering daughter never let her dream die.

This year, her school has a new Cheering Coach. Tay, along with several of her contemporaries attended a Cheering “boot camp” of sorts this week for 3 days and then had try-outs for the squad on the 4th day. Tay was anxious and she was rusty. She practiced nervously and endlessly for me…dissecting each and every move that she had been tasked with remembering.

I was nervous for her. What if, after the painful memory of last year she didn’t make it? Of course, I would comfort her, be her ally and her rock in the storm. But what if she did? Of course I would be ecstatic for her, celebrate with her and rejoice that something that she has so desired was finally in her grasp. But I would also then start thinking about the schedules, the additional reminders about homework after a game and naturally, the image that I have in my own mind about the reputation of a Cheerleader.

As it turns out, I get to worry about the latter, as my girl made the squad. The tempering of the joy came from Tay herself.

She was of course very happy that she had made the squad. But she was also very sad. A good friend of hers...who had been practicing with her just as diligently, had not made it. Tay felt disloyal for even thinking of anything celebratory.

This made me even prouder of her. In her moment of triumph, she was thinking of others...not of herself.

Tay: I know that you will be demonstrating your “outer” Spirit at games and rallies in the months to come. However, it is your inner Spirit, Taylor, that makes me stand up and cheer.