Growing Pains
My daughter had to say goodbye to yet another best friend tonight. She is moving to Texas. This is the second best friend in two years to move. I know that it is extraordinarily hard for her to have someone leave that she has become close to. This stems largely from the fact that it is very hard for her to overcome her shyness and make friends in the first place.
My heart aches for her. I know that she feels lost and alone at the thought of Kaitlyn being gone. I wish I knew a way to console her, but I don't. This is one of those life lessons that she is going to have to go through and learn from. I can be there for her, but I can't make the pain go away.
I think that one of the hardest things I've had to learn to deal with as a mother is that I cannot, in fact, make EVERYthing better. I can doctor cuts and bruises. I can fluff the pillows of the sick and cater to their needs. I can wipe away their tears and console them, but I can't fix the heartbreaks.
I know there will be plenty of them. There will be mean kids and first boyfriends and girlfriends who will break their hearts. Hopefully, they won't be like their mom and live with the recurring theme of unrequited love in their lives. They will have unfulfilled dreams and aspirations and when the world lets them down their hearts will be crushed. All I can do is be there for them, listening, offering a shoulder, mopping up tears.
I watched them last spring frolicking on a beach in Gulfport, MS. They were so carefree; experiencing the exhilirating pull of the ocean tides for the first time. I have a favorite picture of the two of them on that beach together, hugging. I wish that they could always be that close, that innocent and happy.
In August, Hurricane Katrina came ashore at Gulfport and swept away great chunks of the beach and boardwalk that we walked upon. She swept away the calm beauty of that beach. I know there will be storms in my children's lives that will sweep away their innocence and joy. I only hope that they don't wash away their faith and hope. For without those two things there is no life.
My heart aches for her. I know that she feels lost and alone at the thought of Kaitlyn being gone. I wish I knew a way to console her, but I don't. This is one of those life lessons that she is going to have to go through and learn from. I can be there for her, but I can't make the pain go away.
I think that one of the hardest things I've had to learn to deal with as a mother is that I cannot, in fact, make EVERYthing better. I can doctor cuts and bruises. I can fluff the pillows of the sick and cater to their needs. I can wipe away their tears and console them, but I can't fix the heartbreaks.
I know there will be plenty of them. There will be mean kids and first boyfriends and girlfriends who will break their hearts. Hopefully, they won't be like their mom and live with the recurring theme of unrequited love in their lives. They will have unfulfilled dreams and aspirations and when the world lets them down their hearts will be crushed. All I can do is be there for them, listening, offering a shoulder, mopping up tears.
I watched them last spring frolicking on a beach in Gulfport, MS. They were so carefree; experiencing the exhilirating pull of the ocean tides for the first time. I have a favorite picture of the two of them on that beach together, hugging. I wish that they could always be that close, that innocent and happy.
In August, Hurricane Katrina came ashore at Gulfport and swept away great chunks of the beach and boardwalk that we walked upon. She swept away the calm beauty of that beach. I know there will be storms in my children's lives that will sweep away their innocence and joy. I only hope that they don't wash away their faith and hope. For without those two things there is no life.
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