There was a holy rending of family ties tonight.
Like any tearing, it was painful and effective. Now torn, the view through the veil is breathtaking. And the three of us are free.
Tonight, I witnessed my daughter publicly deliver her take on our situation. Respectfully, calmly, maturely, she communicated her experience of living in a foreign country on her grandparents’ grace at her mother’s behest for the last sixteen months. It has not been pretty and yet, in the telling, she maintained her composure and nailed the truth.
No fourteen year old should be underestimated. They are no longer a child and not yet fully an adult, but perhaps more mature than most of us put together.
I was touched beyond words by how she stood up for me and, even more importantly, for herself. Cogently describing our journey and her experience of it without venom — which of course made it all the more compelling.
The rest of us, listening, were stilled in the quiet authority of her. No histrionics, no hyperbole. She stood her ground and, after everything, she stood. Not only stood but towered.
Can you ever truly take credit for your children? I’m not sure. My two really came out this way. I have always been completely convinced that they have never belonged to me. I just get to watch, and wonder, and (hopefully) safeguard and guide. Without (I pray) totally ****ing them up.
Out of the mouths of those who are no longer babies, tonight, she spoke.
Lord, give me the grace to live up to the privilege of being her mother.