A milestone.

Last night a milestone was reached.

Not happily (for me).  And not willingly (by me).  But reached it was.  And I must accept it, kicking and screaming and fighting it every step of the way.

My dearest, darling daughter, who is all of 9 1/2 years old, spent the night at a summer camp.  Away from me.  Away from home.  With the camp counselors and the other campers.   And not me.  Mom.

She called at 9:30 pm to say goodnight and that she loved me and that she missed me.

I was stoic, thank you very much.  I didn’t let her hear me cry.  I smiled and said I hoped she was having fun.  I told her I loved her and I missed her too (I didn’t tell her just how much I missed her or that I couldn’t stand to be here in this hotel room without her and that it made me cry to look at her book bag and her suitcase).

I didn’t tell her my heart was breaking into a million little pieces at how unbelievably fast the last 9 1/2 years have gone.  I didn’t tell her that hearing her voice on the other end, happy and upbeat and growing up, felt as if she was being ripped away from me.  I didn’t tell her of the ache I was feeling deep down in the very fibers of my being.

I didn’t tell her any of that.  I laughed, I smiled, I listened.  I sent love through the ethos, hoping she felt it.  I told her to sleep well and I’d see her in the morning.

Then the phone clicked off and there was silence from the other side.

Then the tears fell like rain.  And the shattering of my heart reverberated in this quiet hotel  room.

And I did what any grown woman does….I called my mother.

Who talked me through the pain, and the angst.  Who offered solace and comfort as I waded through the broken pieces.  Who helped me see that life is change.  And change is good.  And I wouldn’t ever want to sacrifice what is to come by being stuck forever in what was.

We reminisced about my daughter as a baby.  We marveled at the wonder that she is today.  We agreed that life is too fast.  Too unbelievably fast.

And so today, the morning after the milestone, I am grateful for the blessings in my life.  I am grateful to the Universe for blessing me with the gift of my daughter.  For allowing me to be her teacher and her guide and her mother.  And I am grateful to the Goddess for the blessing of my mother–who could help me see the beauty of life as it unfolds around me.

We may not like the changes.  We may not like the speed.  But we must accept life.  On life’s terms.  Or we risk disharmony in our soul.  And our spirits become warped.

Thank you Universe for the blessings in my life.

 

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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