Grown Goodbyes

As our two cars approached my daughter’s exit home, I started waving from my car. She flashed her headlights at me in return. My heart dropped as I drove in silence away from my only child. She is numerically a novice adult at 19 but is carrying the responsibilities of someone three times her age. We’d peppered the last few hours of our trip with laments about going our separate ways.

I remind myself often this ‘going separate ways’ is what I’ve been preparing her for stage-by-stage as a parent. We’re still new at it, and with the backdrop of her dad’s death, a lot of threads remain at loose ends. The probate process is not complete. Dad’s house needs to be sold. Those details heighten every experience and emotion.

The ache that missing her brings was my companion as I steered the car away from her the first mile and then ten miles and later 100 miles down the road. For a little while, I simply let myself feel the ache. I felt tears prick my eyes. I waited for gushing tears or a sob to escape my mouth but neither did. Feeling the sadness was enough. My eyes scanned the scenic views of midwestern pastures, an occasional home or farm. I found medicine in the topographical beauty.

I marvel at my growing ability to sit in discomfort well. I have had three lifetimes’ worth of discomfort in my life, but what I notice is my ability to sit still in it differently than before. I allow it to wash over me and to feel confident that it will not take me under permanently.

In earlier versions of my relationship with discomfort, I talked a lot. I checked in with others looking for someone to assure me everything was going to be okay. When that wasn’t possible, I chewed my nails until my cuticles turned red and throbbed.

What has emerged over decades is confidence in the process of emotional weight and worry passing through like a train on the tracks. It doesn’t stay at any one depot indefinitely. Thank goodness. I trust—because I have had so much practice—that stillness will help me bear the latest waves of emotional torrent.

Eventually I was able to return to the podcast we’d listened to together and later to the audiobook I’d been listening to at the beginning of the trip. This was a clear sign that my discomfort had moved through me, and I was well on my way to feeling better. This stage of parenting has its own peaks and valleys, but with a daughter like mine, I treasure every moment we can be together. I am deeply grateful she wants to spend time together. And in the meantime, I have a solo life to build.