Or broken women.
All of which has been really, really hard for this mom to watch.
I am not a helicopter parent. Au contraire. I watched enough of my peers and other people with varying degrees of distance from me and my life meddling in the lives of their adult children to the point where said children’s attitudes toward them ranged from tolerance to active hostility.
I promised myself that I wasn’t going to do that. I was going to make sure I had a life so that I wouldn’t find it necessary to live through them.
But it has never been easy for me to just watch when my babies are hurting. That holds as true when they were little and got sick and miserable as it does now when they get hurt and are miserable.
The worst part about her living so far away is that, right now, she could use a weekend at Mom’s house to just take a break, cry on a shoulder or just enjoy a Mom-hug.
And it suddenly occurs to me that I now have a new fiscal goal. I need a cash reserve so that I can go buy a plane ticket to Phoenix whenever I need to. Don’t know why that never occurred to me before. It is not okay with me that I can’t get to her if she needs me.
But I digress.
The thing is that she doesn’t really need me. She has plenty of things to do, between carrying out her career plans and playing about 67 games of soccer a week. She has plenty of good friends, too, and I hope she has the sense to cry on one of their shoulders and let them comfort her.
I hope she takes advantage of this opportunity, as terrible as it is for her, to learn how to take care of herself when her feels get hurt. That is as much a part of learning to be self-sufficient as budgeting and paying rent.
Grown up life is full of things that Mom really can’t kiss and make better … even if she lived next door.
So, no, it’s not easy for me to watch her make a good decision and suffer so very much for it.
But Gina is built strong, so she isn’t broken. That’s how I know she’ll be okay.