Worry.Breathe.Repeat

My daughter is sixteen. With this rite of passage comes so much worry for me that sometimes I forget to breathe. Like yesterday. She had plans. Plans that didn't include me or her dad. Plans that included friends and her car and night and interstate driving.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I struggled with worry before she turned sixteen. I'm a worrier. Not sure why, but I just am, so any little thing can set my mind into a frenzy. Whether it's questioning something I said or something I did or didn't do. Whether it's worrying about the past or the future or today. Give me anything to worry about, even a wisp of a worry, and I will claim it.

So I'm having to learn how to live in a home that includes a sixteen-year-old daughter with keys and car. I'm having to learn how to give her space to grow up and to be independent. I'm having to trust that she will find her way to her friend's house, in the dark, and that she will be back here the next day. Safe and sound.

I do turn things over to God. Often. Sometimes I pull the worry back from him and stew in it for a little while. But then I send it back to him on angels' wings. When I do this. When I send my worries to God and place them in His hands, I relax. My mind is free from worry. I find peace. I breathe.

And I continue to trust Him with her precious life and tell myself that everything will be okay. I have to, so I can breathe.

Time's a Tickin' ...

and I'm realizing, way too real, that my daughter will soon be heading off to her future. To college and career and one day to a relationship that will most likely lead to marriage and parenting. That all of this is going to eventually take her away from me (at least physically), and I get kind of weak-kneed and teary-eyed just thinking about it.

As a parent, I know that my job is to guide her into becoming the woman she will become. That my job is to provide for her a safe environment ... to make sure she has a roof over her head, food to eat, and clothes to wear. That my job is to help her realize her gifts and talents. That my job is to make sure she understands how important it is to be educated and prepared to work, so she can enjoy her independence in life. That my job is to keep her safe....

And that's where I pull up short and take a deep breath and slowly let the breath out again because I can't keep her safe forever. There will come a time when she will be on her own and will have to make her own choices and take her own steps to be safe and independent and successful in whatever way she feels makes her successful.

And I have to have faith that I've done my job and that God is looking out for her.

Looking at her now, I know that my husband and I have done everything we can to get her to that point. We even have two more years to spend with her here at home before she heads off to college. I know that those two years will go by so fast, I won't know what happened to them. Like the water going down the drain with the garbage disposal on.... Swoosh, clatter, and just like that, she'll be graduating from high school.

Can you tell that I'm terrified a bit at having to let her go? Can you tell that tears are pushing against my eyes at the thought of it?

* sigh *

Growing children.... It's such a mix of ecstatic love and a mournful realization that envelopes you when you realize that your children really do have to grow up. And that means that one day they'll be leaving to take their part in the bigger world. Without you....

I know that I'll miss her daily presence. I know that I will cling to her voice each time she calls. I know that I'll be counting down the days or weeks until I see her again. But I also know that she'll be ready. And maybe, maybe, in two years I'll be closer to being ready, too.