My daughter. This picture depicts her--the twinkle in her eye, the dimple in her cheek, the happiness that sometimes is unseen. I love her so much. And these teen years are killing me. The cry for independence that she wants so badly, the little girl that I want to hold onto for just a little while longer. When she was born, I "made" a special song for her--and sang it to her as I scratched her back every single night. Now she tells me she's "too old" for the song--but I can scratch her back for just a bit. She's too old for the g'night hugs, doesn't need me to attend ALL of her games (although I always do), and can walk through the mall ON HER OWN. "God, mom, I'm not a baby. I don't need you all the time."
My daughter. On her own, for the first time. I am so proud of her for all that she's been able to accomplish in her short 14 years. She's mature and has already survived a lot of hardships. When I see that smile, a little part of me thinks that I've helped put it there. I love it when she's happy. She flew to FL two days ago--her cheer team made Nationals at Disney. I was thrilled for her--and she was excited to fly from the nest (at least for a bit). Two days. It feels like she's been gone for much longer than that. Sitting at the kitchen table, and seeing her empty seat, is difficult. I'm thankful she'll be back on Monday, and terrified of how quickly these high school years are going by. She's already 1/2 through her freshman year.
She's been calling every night--perhaps it's only because I've told her to do this, perhaps she does miss me a bit too. All I know is that I love hearing her voice. I love the excitement, the happiness that she's experiencing. I love knowing that she's bonding with her team--something that doesn't come easily for her. On the phone today she said, "Mom! I LOVE Florida! I think I want to like move here someday!" "What about Cali?" I asked her, as she was just DYING to move there after our trip to Long Beach for Nationals last year. "OH YEAH! I forgot about Cali--I'm kinda like stuck between both." My heart breaks just a bit when I hear her dreaming of leaving home. Of leaving me. Then I remember being 14; I remember my dreams of moving the HELL AWAY and straight to Colorado. What frightens me is that is exactly what I did. Moved away. Immediately--far. Why does she have to be so like me?
I'm already missing my little girl. But I know she's going to make one hell of a woman.
No comments:
Post a Comment