When a child grows into a man or woman, we say that we send them out in the world to make their way. I suppose that our parents said such things, and their parents before them. Of course, saying that we send our children out into the world, is vastly different than actually completing the act. Is it any harder for a mother to send her son out into the vast unknown than it is for a father to send his daughter? Some will argue that a son at least is able to fight in a male world. Others will say there is nothing like a woman cornered to bring out the ability to survive in a human.
I say if it is your child, you grieve every second that your child is out of sight. If they are making their way about in the world, a parent holds their breath until the phone rings and once again, normal blood pressure slowly returns to the body. Some children are naturally acclimated to the situations they find themselves in. They adapt and go on . My child, how I say that, as if to say she isn’t grown, but she is, at least in age and in attitude. The finer and subtle points in becoming a grownup are still forming in her character. She has her opinions and she expresses them, often and often loud. She is a little sprite, five foot three if stretched. A little body with a big idea of what she wants out of life and how to get there.
Tonight it is raining, no it is storming, a cold front moves in from the west and off the Gulf of Mexico. My daughter wanted to get back to Tallahassee from her home near Pensacola. She has classes tomorrow and did not want to miss them. That is something I consider admirable and I find not a little pride in her responsible attitude. Tonight, it is storming and the roads in the daytime are at best demanding of a driver’s full attention. So tonight I would have been happy if she had said, “I’ll wait until morning.” The opposite was true and for hours I forbid her to drive. Her frustration mounted and my apprehension escalated. I watched the Doppler on the Internet, hoping for a clear road, praying for clear sweeps of the radar. There are times when a parent just wants everything to be right.
It isn’t right, but the radar showed a lull between storm bands approaching from the west. I called her in and showed her. I said, “I don’t wish for you to leave, but if you feel you have to, then this is the time to go.” She didn’t answer, but went from the room and gathered her belongings, long sitting by the door and walked the short distance out to her car. Her mother, who is braver than I am when it comes to her emotions with our daughter, hugged her and told her to be careful. I walked out barefooted on the acorn-strewn driveway and hugged her tight, feeling her life in my arms. I told her, I loved her. And then she rubbed my back and told me, “Dad, don’t worry, I will be fine.”
I will watch the Doppler and wait for the call, there will be no sleep, there will be no calm here until I know she is in her home, and tucked away in her bed. It’s the only way I can do this, she’s just all I know and love and after all, she rubbed my back.
Postscript: 11:30 pm central time. The phone rang, while I was still saddled in my position in front of my computer, watching the Doppler signal the rains flooding across the south land. “It didn’t rain much except around Marianna,” she told me. I knew that was so, she gave me the facts, and then I told her I loved her. “I love you too, “ she whispered.
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