No (Wo)Man is an Island
I thought maybe it would be good to check in and thank everyone for their words of peace and experience regarding my daughter's impending departure. I cannot find the words to express the comfort and hope you have administered. Hearing "I was her" or "I've been in your shoes" coupled with "It all turned out okay in the end" have given rest to my weary psychie.
I listened, I breathed, I exhaled, and I found solice in everything you've offered in the way of support.
And I know it's going to be okay.
Yesterday I took her to Winter Park and we walked our stupid dog for a few hours. We window shopped, enjoyed a lovely cafe lunch, and communicated about nothing in particular. We ignored the elephant in the room, and we focused on the beautiful weather, our stupid dog's phobia of bicycles, and the finer skills involved in manuevering Orlando traffic on I4. It was a very good day.
Today... not so much. Again, by simply requesting that she clean her room, another war was waged. But I was strong, issued my request as firmly as my fainting heart could do, and left for my Tai Chi class.
During the relaxation portion of my class, the instructor told me to relax the muscles around my heart. The voice inside me whispered "I can't. That's all that's holding the broken pieces together." I fought back tears, and another voice within me said, "Try." So I did. I relaxed the muscles in my heart, and guess what? It's not broken after all. It kept beating and the blood kept flowing. Breathing in, breathing out, I rested the muscles furrowing my brow, I put a slight smile on my face, and I let the weight of all my worries sink into the floor beneath me. And I did not die.
When I got home, her room was clean, her bags were packed, and her wrath was put away.
And yes, I do think everything is going to be okay. It's just that we both need some time apart so we can both of us grow up. We both need time to trust our broken hearts to keep us going. We both need space to sink so that we know hitting the floor is not the worst thing that can happen to a person.
So again, thank you.
This is Funky, and that is all.
I listened, I breathed, I exhaled, and I found solice in everything you've offered in the way of support.
And I know it's going to be okay.
Yesterday I took her to Winter Park and we walked our stupid dog for a few hours. We window shopped, enjoyed a lovely cafe lunch, and communicated about nothing in particular. We ignored the elephant in the room, and we focused on the beautiful weather, our stupid dog's phobia of bicycles, and the finer skills involved in manuevering Orlando traffic on I4. It was a very good day.
Today... not so much. Again, by simply requesting that she clean her room, another war was waged. But I was strong, issued my request as firmly as my fainting heart could do, and left for my Tai Chi class.
During the relaxation portion of my class, the instructor told me to relax the muscles around my heart. The voice inside me whispered "I can't. That's all that's holding the broken pieces together." I fought back tears, and another voice within me said, "Try." So I did. I relaxed the muscles in my heart, and guess what? It's not broken after all. It kept beating and the blood kept flowing. Breathing in, breathing out, I rested the muscles furrowing my brow, I put a slight smile on my face, and I let the weight of all my worries sink into the floor beneath me. And I did not die.
When I got home, her room was clean, her bags were packed, and her wrath was put away.
And yes, I do think everything is going to be okay. It's just that we both need some time apart so we can both of us grow up. We both need time to trust our broken hearts to keep us going. We both need space to sink so that we know hitting the floor is not the worst thing that can happen to a person.
So again, thank you.
This is Funky, and that is all.
posted by Robin at 5:22 PM
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