A Mommy on Letting Go

It’s a little after 5 a.m. on Wednesday the 28th and I’ve just returned from taking Amber, my 15-year-old, to her school to meet the rest of the arts and music department for their field trip to New York. Although Amber has been traveling alone since she was about 7 years old this trip, with more than 130 people, should be a piece of cake for her and for me. But I still get that “missing my baby and trying not to worry feeling” that overcomes me each time she travels without me.

I put up a brave front: huge smile, brief hug and my typical jokes, but inside my heart is breaking and yearning for my first born. She giggles as she walks away, barely glancing back and waving – a young beautiful girl transforming into an exceptional woman. I catch glimpses of her as I slowly drive away and resist the urge to turn the van around, track her down and give her one big bear hug and smother her with kisses.

She knows I love her, but I want to tell her again. She knows to be safe, but I want to remind her one more time. I continue the drive home saying a prayer for her that I know God hears and answers.

When I finally lie down to catch a few hours nap before the next start of my day, I think about Amber: her smile, her gestures… and I know she’s already having fun especially since she loves to travel. A deep breathe and sigh for me as I let my baby go little by little. One day I know she’ll be a grown woman with her own home, family and responsibilities – one day she’ll be gone for good – but for now I await the return of my baby girl. The baby girl who is a gift so precious that I’m thankful for her each time I lay eyes on her.

I can’t wait to see her and hear her stories that last forever, to see her laugh and recall the details of her trip and to give a hug that doesn’t last too long/not really indicating how much I missed her. I have her for a couple of more years, I have a little more time to teach her, guide her and love on her as a child, but eventually she’ll emerge from our home like the beautiful butterfly that she is. And although I don’t want to let her go, I know it’s almost time and I look forward to the next stage of her life and our relationship, which will probably cause me that “missing my baby and trying not to worry feeling” on all over again.

In the end, I have to know it’s okay – that she’s okay. I’ve done my job as a parent and it’s only natural that the evolution cycle continues. Not to worry, I’ll have three others at home to have the same feelings for and go through the same growth with. For now, I’m content to wait for her to return home. For now my nest is full.