Take a Seat
I have missed you, too.
But here's the thing - my world is warping and exploding and shrinking and growing and just generally becoming unmanageable.
Why the unnecessary dramatic language, you wonder?
My daughter is graduating from high school in less than two weeks. And then she is off to college.
I can't even write about it without welling up with tears. It's not that I don't want her to blossom and grow and flourish and fly - I just want her to do it here with me! And that isn't fair. I know that I am supposed to be thrilled that she is wanting to explore the world and investigate every aspect of how she will relate to our society as a whole and healthy, productive, giving, nurturing and loving human being...and most parts of me are so very thrilled, I swear. This is a beautiful culmination of every maternal duty I was charged with when she was born!
But the part of me that isn't thrilled is plain heartbroken. I didn't expect to feel this way. I am mourning already and so afraid of just how bad this mourning can get.
She was the very first human that I ever loved with every fiber of my being.
And while I will let her go with as much grace and dignity as I can muster, and I will be her biggest supporter in creating a future that has nothing to do with mommy's wants, opinions, rules, hangups and/or feelings - it will be somewhat of a facade. A farce, if you will.
Because, really, if you could see into my heart you would see me throwing myself on the floor and begging her to stay.
Just stay a bit longer with me, my little TaylorBooBerry.