Has Sydney hit this moment? I don't know, Sydney is an enigma of emotion. She has them..they lie dormant for the longest time only to rear in the most bizarre and unexpected times and places...I mean I could ask her; however, that could create a maelstrom from her that she nor I am prepared to deal with. On this topic I believe I would like to err the same way that I do about the topic of sex...let her come to me with it and once she answers my "Well, what do you think that means?" question...then we can have some dialogue. Right now, we're just dealing with the "What if Bradley dies?" question? That one is loaded enough, so we'll keep that question in the closet for now and return to it as necessary.
So that leaves us with Madison. Eric's parents have now each successfully survived heart attacks. One had to have open heart surgery, the other a stent was all that was needed...to say we have been lucky is putting the mildest of spins on things. Confronted with the emotions of the frightening close calls by her grandparents, Madison has walked that train track back down the tunnel that leads to the light at the end...you know, the light attached to THAT train. If these things can befall her grandparents, then it stands to reason that these things can happen to mom and dad...and that means that mom could die. It's a convoluted track friends, no one said that it makes sense coming down the line with an eleven year old; sometimes, you just have to tag along for the ride to see where we go.
We went around the bend...I think maybe twice. The good news, we both survived. But then I am jumping ahead quite a bit here. So we back up... About a week ago, I went in to tuck Madison in for the night. This is how it goes with her...one of us tucks her in then leaves the room and as soon as we clear her doorway on the way out, she calls us back in...it's a strange dance we do. Anyway, she called me back in and told me she worried about bonding with the cat. Hmm...as I prepare to help her with suggestions, she immediately says: "Mom will we bond when I get older because I'm afraid we won't." Ah...okay, well I can drive a stick, let me switch gears... I barely get to tell her that sometimes moms and daughters have a hard time through the teen years but usually find their way back to each other later. I told her that we would do the same... Um, that might have processed before she launched into: "Mom I don't want you to die!" Ah. Me being me, I almost said "Well, I don't want to die either." But she followed up her statement by throwing herself into my arms and bawling her eyes out. Oh, I see, we're here. We're at the moment in her life and because I had this same reaction and fear envelope me when I was a kid...I know this moment and I am a little afraid of this moment as I have not reconciled myself to this idea that my parents will die someday and that I will die someday...and well, everyone I know. Good grief this is spiraling downhill quite quickly now.
So while she cries, my mind is spinning...what to say, what to say? While half my brain is playing with that the other half is thinking about stuff like this: this kid hugs me three or four times a day, when did she get this solid? She stands beside me and she's at my shoulder, when did she get so big? When was the last time she let me just wrap her up in my arms and hold her to me? And why does there have to be so many tears when I get too? When will she let me hold her again?
And my other half is working on stuff like: What can I say to her that will make her stop crying, but isn't a lie?
I didn't lie, I told her the truth, yep...someday mom will kick the bucket. But I also told her that it won't be until she will be okay without me; even though the truth is, she won't be ready for it to happen and I won't be ready for it to happen. I told her I'd always be with her; that I'd be whispering stuff in her head all the time - like eat that donut for me cause I can't. And, the hottie in the corner is looking at you, smile back - no wait, get out of here, no wait... uh...who's hungry? You know, the important stuff. Luckily, she laughed because it is not very often that her tears can outlast my humor. Not sure how much longer that will be the reality, she's growing up really fast. In this instance, she is me to the core - her fears about the inevitability of death were mine as well. And she's incredibly smart, but she's one of those all around smart kids so that means she has to study and learn stuff...that's me too. Not a lot came easy for me. I doubted my abilities and so that doubt hampered me and made me have to work harder. Madison pressures herself because her sister is pretty stinkin' smart naturally - it's cause for some jealousy. We're used to this though, it's been like this for a while. In our house, we have to preach a lot of patience and encourage the joy of each person's gifts no matter what subject or what talent. We are constantly pointing out that one area of ease for one person is not another's and that's perfectly all right and frankly, part of what makes the journey so amazing.
I left Madison's room that night after she was asleep, I sat beside her until she was and then headed for my own. A feeling of melancholy wrapped around me which I believe is inevitable when one has to think about one's mortality. The idea of not being here is so depressing that I work very hard to not think about that option. But I felt that I had reached my daughter and left her better off than how I had found her. I thought perhaps we had found a place of happy camaraderie that would last through the weekend...boy was I ever wrong! The next day I swear her head spun around twice and I couldn't figure out whether to hug her, ground her or call a priest for an exorcism. What happened to that kid from last night? How do I get her back?
Somehow we will weather these pre-teen storms of emotion from
here...but it sure makes it rough going to get through them, and hope to come through unscathed on the other side. The mere idea might be just an idea and not a reality at all. I mean, our scars are what help mold us into who we are supposed to be after all.
