motherhood, etc.

You know last Friday she said she'd be home around 10. I try to be cool and pretend I am not worried about some idiot hitting her in the car, or some other thing I call "daymares." Those happen when I allow my worst fears to come out. At least in my mind. I usually try to squelch them for the fear that even the thought of the thought will make it happen. And I dare not say them.... So...its 11:00. Don't worry. Grow up. She is fine. 11:30. Your'e controlling. Just go to bed. 11:40. Called her cell. Went straight to voice mail. 11:45 Call where she was supposed to be. No answer. Maybe I dialed wrong. Call again. 11:53. That is it. Hit the road, we're looking. I heard the dog bark and it could have been that "Timmys in the well bark." (He IS a collie). Fight with husband who is the angel on my shoulder telling me its ok. Meanwhile, the devil on the other is telling me my world is about to end. 12:03. Still no answer. 12:10 Finally- her BFs stepbrother is on the other line and doesn't know when she left....oh wait....she's still there. FURY. A 5 second phone call could have avoided this panic attack. TEARS. SOBS. YELLING. Why doesn't he understand. Who understands that she IS my world. No, not my only thing in life. Just, my life. How could I go on without her? I can't face that again. I don't know who can. Yet, I know people do. They walk through the darkness and terror that is my "daymare" I am sure they would trade my fury and sobs and relief for their loss and pain any day. And so I remind myself of that, and try to not be angry with her too much, forgive. I have her another day. I try to hold on to each day. Even the bad ones. This lesson I have learned, only by reading the internet and its one-way conversational blogs. Everything has a reason and a equal and opposite reason.

I talked to my mom about it. She understands. It never ends she says. Never. I talked to my aunt - 4 grown kids. Never ends she says. Her kids are lawyers, executives, entrepreneurs, rich even. Still, never ends. Just grows with grandchildren. As her graduation approaches, what should be elation turns to more trepidation. Every year there are stories of kids killed on graduation night from cars, drinking, partying. I can't keep her in a bubble. But I want to.