The count down until the oldest moves is shrinking rapidly among the busyness of both our lives.
She’s navigating college courses and future career paths. Does she change her major? Get a masters? Add a minor? Then there is the move to a new state and all of the logistics that brings. The excitement of starting new and exploring a new place.
If she’s afraid at all she doesn’t show it. I love how she lights up when she shares all of her interests with me. I see the woman she’s become and yet in all the mannerisms and facial expression my little girl is still there.
Then there is me. Navigating single parenting, working, being single and rediscovering the pieces of me that got lost for a while. She listens as I talk about my new make up routine. Or the places I like to shop now. My new infatuation with shoes.
As we laugh and talk I wonder if she sees my fear. It’s there, under the surface. All moms have it to a degree. As a single mom it’s grown even more. Will I fail her? Will she need me and I not be able to help? Worrying that in all the of the juggling I do that I dropped the ball when it comes to connecting with her.
So when the rare chance for her to be here with me happens I soak it in. The laughter and conversation push back the fear. The joy overshadows the worry. I see her strength and it reminds me that I am strong too.