I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have a daughter. I haven’t you see. Mother Nature decided to play this joke on me.. and each one of my five tiny female foetus’s expelled themself from my body at eleven weeks of gestation, including my middle son’s twin sister. I handled each of them well I suppose. My heart hurt of course, but my brain told me that this was natures way of dealing with something that wasn’t right. And I’m OK with that. I have three majestically wonderful sons, whom I adore with everything in me. I’m not sure they know how much.
Girlfriends have come and gone, and each time I found myself loving these girls. It’s nice. Conversations about hair, and dresses (even though I don’t care what my hair looks like and heaven forbid I put on a dress!) and boys (even though they talk about my boys – I’m not so stupid to believe that my sons are perfect. God knows there ain’t no sech animal). I have enjoyed the break from chatter about basketball, fart jokes and general boy stuff. And these girls have ended up in my heart for my boys have not been ones to play the field. Each one has met and been with their girls for long periods of time and brought them into the family.
Breakups are hard. Not just for them. But for me too. I have loved these young women who have traversed through my life. Each one, giving me something that I never really knew I wanted, but missed terribly when they were gone.
We’re sort of going through one now I think. We’re not sure. There’s something going on. I don’t understand it. All I know is my boy is hurting and that hurts me.
But, I don’t let him see my hurt. That’s not really important right now. And it’s not even like it’s a done deal. We’re in a holding pattern, waiting to see.
In the meantime, his brothers have rallied around him. The love they have for each other, even though they scoff at the thought, warms my heart. They are supportive, pulling him into the fold, making sure he is not alone, moping. They take him out, even though he might not really want to, but he goes. They say he has a good time. I hope he is. No parent wants to see their child miserable, sad, lonely.
He stayed over last night. We had a family day out at the races. We all drank way too much and laughed and talked.
It was a great day. He slept. Really slept he said. Was it being back home? I don’t know, but I’m glad.
He’s currently out in the front yard with the dog, shooting hoops, just like he used to when he lived here.
Our children’s breakups are just part of life. But five years of having a daughter (and she has been my daughter) only to have her pull away, it’s hard. My thoughts are disjointed I know, but this post is not so much about sharing something interesting, but about getting it off my chest. I still hope they will sort it out. They have bought a home together, started a life together.
I miss her. I miss seeing them happy. All I can do is be there for him if he needs me. And he will be fine. I raised him to be independent and sensible. I raised him to be a good man. And he is.
Life will go on. We’re having one of those bumps in the road that tend to come up unexpectedly, but like we always do, we’ll pull back on track and we’ll all be fine.