…and oh, here it is… the struggle
and heartbreak of watching you steady yourself on your wings. Your feathers are
ready, your fuzz has faded all away… I can do nothing more than stand back and
support you with encouraging words and urge you to try. Just try. Keep trying.
In
October, you turned 16. It was SUCH a privilege for me as a parent to be able
to afford a vehicle for you. As a parent, there are goals in life that we make
for ourselves… one was to take you to Disney World when you turned 5 (little did
I know it’d be Disney PARIS that you got to see!) Another was to make sure you
got a car on your 16th birthday. I also knew that with that car, I’d
want you to embrace responsibility and appreciate it much more than I
appreciated my first car. I wanted you to feel the pride of earning it/paying
for it yourself. I wanted you to know what hard work felt like, because it
feels good. So, while we made the initial purchase, we left room for you to pay
on a loan with a paycheck that we’d encourage you to pursue started the day of
your 16th birthday.
It was
such a delicate dance… I needed you to know that getting a job was important. I
wanted you to know that it wasn’t so much that we needed the help of your
contributions to your own expenses (because we can afford those.) I was
watching you in your shy and introverted state, afraid to encounter people and
conversations with strangers for fear of everything. I wanted you to find
confidence and power in your life. I knew, my love, that you would be just
fine. I was also terrified that I’d push you too hard and rather than embrace
all I was trying to help you achieve, I’d just turn you away from me.
That
day in the parking lot, when I took you to your first job interview… It was
such a piercing blow to my heart to see that tear roll down your cheek and your
voice crack when you said “Mom, I can’t go in there.” I wanted to drive you
quickly away from there and cover you in the comfort of your blankets and hug
you and tell you that I understood and I’m sorry. I also knew that running from
your fears was the last thing you needed and I had to stand my ground and urge
you to get out of the car and go in! I watched as that blonde headed guy
approached you as you waited and told you to smile, that everything would be
okay. I whispered to God in that moment and asked Him to calm your fears and if
it was His will, to bless you with this opportunity to grow.
The day
you shared the news with me that you’d gotten the job, was overwhelming! I
truly know what it is to feel my cup runneth o’er. It spills out my eyes and
down my cheeks and with every beat of my heart it just keeps coming! I felt
privileged that you took me out, alone with you to share the news with me first
– before anyone else. As if you knew that maybe I was the only person in the
whole world who would celebrate that moment with you the most. My God, I love
you!
Those
first weeks of employment, I watched you slowly emerge from your shell. Each
new day that you went in, you walked a little taller until the day came when
you didn’t need to linger in the passenger seat for those extra minutes.
December
came, and with it the pending date for your driving test. We practiced and
planned and prayed and that first time came and we showed up early and I
crossed my fingers so tight while you were out with the instructor and when you
came back and she said you’d gotten some things wrong – we were both so
disappointed. You were SO excited about being able to drive to school and take
your friends to lunch and I was SO EXCITED for your independence. It was ok,
though… We both agreed it was safer to find these mistakes now and approach
them with caution and treat them as a learning experience and come back in a
week. The second time you tested you were much more confident and ready and you
passed with flying colors. Now you’re driving yourself to and from school and
to and from work and to and from events like the carnival, and movies with
friends, and the mall. You… you’re flying.
Tonight,
late at night while all the world is sleeping and I’m hidden away in my small
room here at work, I thought to myself that you’re needing me less, and it was
a sharp ache in my chest. I thought how even if I wanted to, for old times’
sake, take you to school… you’d decline because you’d want your car available
for lunch with friends. I think sometimes about how you’ve got 1 year left of
high school. Sometimes I walk by your room in the house and imagine what it’s
going to be like to not see you in your bed because you’ll be in your own
apartment or doom room for college… Sometimes I wonder if you truly know just
how much I love you.
There
was a time in my life when I wrote poetry. The last poem I ever wrote was for
you. “I cannot write for you. Nor can I write about you, for you are my poem.
You are the perfect combination of words that I could never find. No man-made
definition could ever describe you or tell your story. God told me a secret
once in the form of a life. He named her Stevie. It was the best secret I’d
ever heard.”
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