Up Up and Away

Children growing up and out is the oldest story in the world.
So why does it catch me off guard?

What would you rather do: Send your 10-year-old daughter alone on an airplane to JFK International Airport in Queens, New York? Or send your 17-year-old daughter alone in a car to another state in the winter?

Yesterday, when my daughter drove herself 200 miles it was the first day sunshine broke through the wintery sky in weeks, so it seemed anyway. When you drive in the winter, you want the weather to be either obviously good or obviously bad so you can make travel decisions with certainty. It’s the in-between kind of weather that gets you, when you don’t realize how bad road conditions really are until you are miles down the interstate driving into the whiteout hoping your tires are actually gripping the slickety surface, too late to turn around, or no way to turn around. It’s the in-between kind of weather, when the midwestern machismo raises its head with accusations of weakness for those who change their plans for the weather.

Those are the days when I truly miss living on the East Coast, where they shut things down at one inch of snow, sometimes even with just simple rain. It was a cold, harsh reality when we moved back to Minnesota and I got in trouble for canceling on a meeting because I needed to drive 100 miles in 50 degrees below zero temperatures, counting the wind-chill. (Though my East Coast CEO supported my decision.)

Yesterday the sky was perfectly blue and sunny, so there was no question that the travel conditions would be good for my daughter. She’s an excellent driver and had saved up her money to visit friends. I’m so proud and impressed with the way she’s growing into a strong, confident young woman but still, I couldn’t help but to feel a lump in my stomach the entire afternoon. I tracked her on my smart phone GPS and it reminded me of the old days when she slept in a crib with an the electric baby monitor set up in her room, approximately 20 feet away from our kitchen. We’d listen to the receptor and worry about every little baby burp and grunt, wondering if we should intervene, aka interrupt her sleep. In hindsight I’m not sure those baby monitors are a good idea – too much information. But still, I followed the GPS all afternoon, getting frustrated when it didn’t work as fast as I wanted it too, almost falling for the gimmick to purchase the upgraded app.

The lump in my stomach reminded me of the time she was ten years old and got it into her head she wanted to fly alone to New York City for Christmas vacation. Her aunts and uncles would pay for the ticket, meet her at the airport, and treat her like a celebrity, so the decision was pretty much made my nerves notwithstanding. We researched the unaccompanied minor airline procedures (which I think they’ve cut out of the offerings by now) and got her ready to go. I remember at the time one of our mentors was the daughter of my former boss, who had spent a year after high school working in Beirut and then after college went on to live and work in the Gaza strip, the harshest little piece of land in the whole world (not the people, the living conditions, just to be clear). "Don't call her, she'll call you," our mentor advised. "Just let her experience the trip." You get an idea of our influences.

My favorite Christmas vacations are the ones where we are all holed up at home for a week, sleeping in, building ridiculously complicated Lego structures, watching insane amounts of TV. Maybe that style of winter break will come again but not this year. This year, I am working straight through the holidays. I am considering the change that is about to come upon us, that we are already in, that parents are always in starting the first moment children breathe without your help. My children are growing older and their lives are taking on new and interesting shapes, independent of me and Bob. It’s kind of scary, to be honest, but I’m working to move into it instead of against it. These days I don’t assume that my daughter will always be with me, but I’m always amazingly grateful when I ask her to be with me and she says yes.

Soon, when she actually moves to a different state, when she makes her own more complicated travel plans, when she makes her own decisions about choices I can’t imagine, we will need to be more deliberate to be together. She won’t just be driving a few days here, flying a few days there, or sleeping in the other room making sounds through the baby monitor. 
...
Thank you for coming over to my blog. Wishing you and yours all the best for 2014.
With love from yours truly,
Natural Born Bleeding Heart