My daughter and her kids are here for a long weekend. They are part of the light and joy that make up my life. I love it when they are around and I wish the universe would work to bring us closer to them geographically…we really can’t get much closer otherwise.
Last night she and I were having a conversation like we always do when she’s here…catching up, pouring out our guts, gossiping, child-rearing and it came to me how much I look forward to her visits because of these chats. I am not a phone person so talking for hours on the phone just doesn’t work for me. Email, text, blog…those work for me but phones…not so much.
She knows this and accepted it long ago…so much so she didn’t even call me on my birthday, she texted me. I can’t explain how much that little bitty action meant to me.
L came into my life when she was 12 and I was 22. For many years I was the only authority figure in her life and I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was doing. Her mom was off trying to figure out her own life and the hubs was the “good time daddy” who always said yes. I was the one that said, “No…you can’t wear that” or “No…you can’t drive there”. Sometimes it was a little contentious but for the most part I think we worked it out.
Over the years we’ve grown up together. Both of us had three kids and I got to actually watch two of hers come into the world. She’s a wonderful big sister to her brothers. I’m an okay grandma. Not exactly the warm and fuzzy go everywhere with you grandma but if you need advice about shoes or tattoos, or you need someone to bake some monkey bread…I’m your girl.
Anyway, as we were talking last night I tried to tell her how I feel about her and I didn’t do a very good job. I felt awkward and vulernable and, as she well knows, that’s not a place I like to be. It’s a lot harder when you’re sober. We used to talk long into the night about a whole host of stuff – she with a glass of wine and me with a couple of bottles. But now I’m so afraid of sounding stupid or needy or goofy or just plain wrong, that the words just don’t tumble out the way they used to. They stumble and trip coming out of my face so that I end up feeling stupid or needy or goofy or wrong so eventually I just give up and revert back to listener and advisor. It’s sad because she is really one of the few people to whom I would actually spill my guts.
But I’m a work in progress and she knows this and “gets me” which means I also do not have to worry and obssess about what I say and when. It’s actually very liberating.
Anyway…I thought I’d take a moment this morning to write a post about how much she means to me ’cause I know she reads my blog. Yes…it’s cheating. No…I don’t give a shit.
I struggle with putting this into words because on one hand, I AM a mom figure to her and I love that role AND I am a firm believer in not being friends with your kids. They have enough friends…they need parents.
But since we’re so close in age and I didn’t actually give birth to her, I think I’m safe when I say that she is one of my best and closest friends. I can tell her anything and she’ll call bullshit on me in a minute (but she has a soft and easy way of doing it because she knows how deeply I feel things). I feel like she knows me better than anyone except her father. She’s always there.
And here’s the key to all of it – I know she always will be because more than anything I trust her. I don’t trust many people the way I trust her. Pretty much just my husband and my kids…yup…that it. She fills the need I have to have a girl relationship with someone within my family. The closest thing I can think of is that she’s like my little sister that, because of our home life I had to be a mom figure to but now that we’re all grown up with kids of our own, we can be best friends.
Yeah…that’s it…I think. Doesn’t really matter…doesn’t really need a name…it is what it is and I’m glad that it is.
So to L I say…I love you honey. Thanks for listening, loving me and being my friend.