One of my clients recently told me her children are 18 and 16 years old. I asked if her oldest was still home or off at college. This was her response…
My daughter is 18 and a senior. She is headed to college in the fall. I go back and forth between wanting to change the locks while she’s at school to following her around the house like a puppy saying, “Why do you want to leave me?” Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was cutting her grapes in half and sleeping on her floor when she had a fever? Sigh . .
You know in movies how something small, like a phrase or song, will cause the lead characters eyes to glaze over as the movie transitions to a black and white memory scene?
This is nothing like that.
But the email did bring tears to my eyes as I remembered my senior year of high school. My last year with my mom.
I remember summer 2004 when we would eat junk food and watch terrible TV. I remember awkward conversations. I remember laying my head on her shoulder for comfort. I remember questioning decisions in her life, only to have her catch me off guard or blow me away with her answer.
And I remember so much more, but those things would only embarrass me to share!
My senior year of high school, my mom and I began a transition from parent-child to parent-adult child, aka friendship. We never quite finished that transition, but I’m so glad we had the opportunity to begin that bond.
After forcing away the urge to cry, I smiled. I couldn’t bring myself to mention losing my mom. I don’t want to scare the woman! But I did write her this…
I remember my senior year with my mom. I learned so much about who she was.. How strong she was.. I say you have every right to follow your daughter around like a puppy. Give her extra hugs and kisses. Share some private mom/daughter time. She may not ever tell you, but it’s the best gift she’ll ever receive.
That goes for you, too, reader. I don’t care where you are at in your life, but you have every right to follow your children around and remind them of how much you love them. You never know when you won’t be there to remind them again.
End unintentionally sad blog post.