And so, I wait
Brand new poem about the bittersweetness of watching our children grow
My daughter starts school in a few weeks.
I chant a silent countdown, but it isn’t a happy one.
It’s her final year of middle school, and her first day is also her 14th birthday.
14?!
I didn’t realize I would carry grief alongside the joy of watching her grow.
I wrote this poem a few days ago with that sentiment in mind; perhaps you know the tune if you’re raising teens or have adult children:
AND SO, I WAIT
A door stands between us,
but she feels worlds away.
Although it’s tethered to teendom,
my mind cannot reason away the pain.
The sands of time
slip though my fingertips
Impossible to grasp
One day she’ll be back, they say.
And so, I wait.
I trace memories of a world
where we belonged to one another.
I try to remember
that she was never truly mine.
Footprints that led to me--
now blown away with the wind.
I could not know that letting go
would mean hammering away
at pieces of myself.
I gave her my all,
but she was never mine to have.
I gave her my all--
my heart is always hers to have.
And so, I wait.
And so, I wait.
There is so much I couldn’t fathom until I tasted the bittersweetness of her starting to spread her wings.
I will spend the last two weeks before she starts school giving her space while welcoming opportunities to be with her--an endless push-and-pull of my heartstrings.
And so, I wait.
On my mind and in my heart,
Randi
P.S. I would love to hear your stories and tips on navigating this chapter. ❤️