The one where it gets really hard

I spoke with my mother yesterday and learned my daughter has been very ill – because nothing ever happens when you are present. A mother knows that when she turns her back, the world becomes dangerous for her children. Littlest was in the ER and apparently has a benign cyst that is harmless, but very painful. I don’t know much more than that.

No one said anything to me. This has been going on for a week.

And I remember when my daughter was six years old and in Virginia visiting her aunt. I received a call in the evening that she had fallen and suffered a compound fracture in her arm. This was on a Wednesday, and I was supposed to drive to Virginia that weekend to get the kids. But I spoke to her just briefly as they were considering surgery, and her sweet child voice whispered over the miles to come across the phone, “Mommy, I need you.” I think it was a 10-hour drive. I drove straight through the night arriving at 6 a.m. I had not earned time off of work, so that meant I turned around and drove home to be at work on Friday. But it was OK, because my child needed me and she was in my arms and that is just what you do.

I have only talked to my mom via messenger. I hope to go to town and make an international call to talk to her. Only, I know… I know that even if my daughter needed me right now, she will never voice it. Because she wants me here, on this trip, and she knows I would book the next flight home just to kiss her forehead and tuck her in and be with her right now.

The ineffable feeling I possess about that knowledge is breathtaking.

My children were the only decision I had to make about whether I should stay or go. My son is 21 and dreams of leaving for Germany, but she, she is only 17. The idea of leaving had been a long time goal and pursuit. But as it usually happens, God’s timing and your life plan rarely align. So, as doors began to open for me to take this opportunity to leave now, it was my daughter who really insisted I go.

“If you stay for me, I will just leave. I am 17. You can’t make me stay. Then, then you would have given up this opportunity for nothing,” she informed me one night.

If you know my daughter, you know she was serious. If you know me, you know my daughter, and you know she meant it. She may hate to hear it, but she is so like me it is comical and frightening at the same time.

So, I arranged to go. She was supposed to stay with a friend and her planned roommate until graduation, that fell through at the last minute so she wound up at my mom's (Thanks mom! And, sorry!!). I was coming back in May to be at her graduation. She attends a night school that only meets 4 days a week, so the rules are a little different. Although there is make-up days on Fridays for time missed, although she has a doctor telling the school she needs to be out of school for the week … if she misses more than 3 days she does not pass her classes and she will not graduate in May.

“But my mother is out of the country and coming home for my graduation,” she explains.

“But she is REALLY sick and needs to be out per a doctor,” my mother tells them more clearly.

It does not matter, there are not exceptions. So, she has gone to school. My mother is contacting the school board. Littlest cannot stand without extreme pain, but she has gone to school anyway, because she will not tell me she needs me and she will make sure she graduates when I come home.

And so, although I was told not to worry, I spent a tearful night and morning in wonderment over my child. She will never understand the heart I have for her.

So, yes, parts of this journey are adventure and renewal and strength, but there are deeper parts of mystery in unknown crevices of your conscience. Growth at every age remains a heartache.

~*~

EDIT:: Because I post these online DAYS after I write them ... my daughter is much better, the school is better, life is better. But you never take that mama out of the mother. Simple fact.