My daughter wishes so badly she was older. She is torn between still wanting things done for her yet wanting to be independent of me...I don't blame her.
I on the other hand, wish I was a kid again. I wish I was carefree, bill-free, worry-free, free to be. Watching her struggle with her independence only makes me feel sorry for her. She doesn't know yet what it's like to not be able to pay a bill, to worry about sickness and death. To wonder what steps you could have taken to make it turn out differently. And I can't tell her. She must learn all this for herself. THAT is hard for me to deal with.
She thinks I don't understand. Oh! But I do. I understand it well. I have been 5 years old. She has never been 37.
I have been to the place on my mother's lap where safety isn't just a thought, it's a constant. I know what it's like to be in kindergarten for the first time wondering what my mother was doing while I was away. I know of scraped knees and bruised egos.
She thinks I don't get it.
She wants to be a drumming veterinarian when she grows up. She will have a parrot in her waiting area and I will be answering the phones and calling the pets in at their turn. On the weekends, she will practice the drums for the pets she takes home to care for...I want those things for her too...
But, I know life's twists and turns may lead her in many directions before she settles on one thing focus. I watch her make decisions, I see her challenge herself many times a day. I know she is on her way to all that her dreams may lead her.
I wish I was there again. Not just with her, guiding her. But for myself. I wish the doors were opened in all directions letting the possibilities in from all sides. I wish I had some of it to do over again. I wish I had my mothers lap to sit on just one more time.
But I do have my daughter. I have her waiting to play 'Candy Land' with me. I have her watching as I sew the holes in her stuffed "patients". I have her comfortably on my lap, talking to me like she knows she can. Sharing the ups and downs of five. Wishing for a moment we were in each other's shoes, then stepping back and enjoying the right now. Because we'll never have this moment again.