Five a.m. she comes hurtling into our room. Screams invade our sleep and dawn’s light shows her clawing at her face. John and I sit erect, grab our girl who is one week from leaving for her second year of college. We hold her. Right now she is a fetal infant.
“What? What happened?” we cry. Now three of us are quaking.
“I’ll never get over this,” she wails. She tells us her friend, the guy she had a crush on, the guy she was supposed to be hanging out with last night, shot himself.
Another friend had called to tell her what happened. As soon as she got the call, she checked Alex’s Facebook page and saw his final words, “Finally free” and then her world went dark.
No parent knows the right thing to do in moments like this. We did the only thing we knew how to do. We let go and prayed.
“God we ask you to help us right now…be with Alex’s family. Please help us all,” John prayed.
My daughter struggled through a rough semester. She circled around a bit, lost her zeal for schoolwork and the meaning of life, but eventually with the help of counseling, medication, and writing she healed.
Last May, she graduated and took a corporate job in Texas, 1006 miles from home. I had always told myself college was temporary and she’d be back. But with her choice, we had to grieve and let go. For days I put photos to music and cried. John wrapped the nightlight he’d kept since she was a baby and gave it to her for her new apartment.
In a sense the video, the nightlight, they were our prayers. And we let go.
Even though Taylor is bright, friendly, and resourceful, her job is stressful. Her friends are getting married and having babies and she wonders if life is passing her by. Working 60 hours a week, she struggles to find the reward. Last week, while stuck in traffic, she called. “Mom I just need to know it’s going to get better,” she sobbed.
Does she need a counselor I wondered — since that’s what I do for a living. Maybe I’ll just ask the right questions, to help broaden her path and help her see options. I wondered if I should just let her cry? She screams, “Mom! I hate this traffic. Who are all these freakin’ people that want to live in this city?”
“Help, God,” I whisper. I let go and pray. Pray and let go.
What did you do when you didn’t know what to do?
*This blog post is part of a parenting carnival over at Sarah Bessey’s blog.
Wow. That was very moving. It hits home because I’ve been in a few of those situations. All I can say is that God has a plan and we’re all interwoven into it. Sometimes it’s about us – sometimes it’s not, it’s about the other person. We just have to trust that God loves us and that it will get better. Not advice anyone wants to hear at the time, but it proves itself out in the end. Letting them know we’re here until then means a lot. Blessings.
Lucille,
Such an honest, difficult post. And one every mom can identify with. My boy is only 12 and I already feel those moments that strangle me, even as I loosen my grip on him. I often pray, “You got him, God?” It’s a prayer of desperation and of faith. God has Noah and he has Taylor. So difficult to let go. So excruciating to not be able to rescue our kids from pain. But He has them in His hands.
No one warns you how scary parenting is, or how wonderful, do they Robbie!
“Let go and pray.” Simple but far far far from easy. My daughter is just a toddler, but I know your words will resonate with me for years to come – just as they do today. Thank you so much for sharing!
Wow, Lucille – that is POWERFUL. Beautiful. Thank you so much.
Jennifer thanks for stopping by and commenting.
Sarah, thank you for the opportunity to link up on your website (Emerging Mummy).
came over today from emerging mummy. wow, a moving picture of what it looks like to hand our kids over. i have so far to go until that happens in a more tangible way for me, but thank you for walking to path ahead of other other mommies!
Oh, you gave me goosbumps. What a difficult experience but I am glad your daughter had two parents to walk her through this and pray with and for her. The realm of possible heartache/challenges just seems to open up as our children get older. Learning to let go and trust God is hard. Painful at times.
Jamie, thanks for the encouragement. Parenting is not for the meek.
Hi Kika,
There is no instruction manual for so many moments in parenting. You do your best, right!
Thank you for sharing this. I know there are many hard moments ahead, even as I’m currently mired in the “she wants to nurse all night” stage. I appreciate from wise mamas further down the road than I am!
Laura, those are some hard times too!
Bless you.
So incredibly moving. As a young mother just starting out, your post leads me to hope that one day when my kids are grown that they will without hesitation confide in me in times of distress. You have obviously raised her well. Lots of love to you and your family.
Hi Jenny, I spent a few minutes over at your blog. It’s beautiful. I can tell you are an amazing mother!
I think the hardest thing about being a parent is letting go. Thank you for sharing with us