I have a saying I use when it comes to my daughter. Everything is the “first” and the “last”.
We only had one child, and we cherish her deeply. Her first experiences and milestones are also the last ones we will experience with a child that is our own.
I write about this today because it was her first day of high school – another first and last for her that we get the privilege of enjoying.
When I look at things that I am proud of in my life, for reflections of my goodness – I see them in my daughter.
But I will tell you that I also worry. I am hopeful that I have protected my daughter – kept her from harm and treated her kindly. If you asked my parents, they would say they feel they did the same by me – but they would be wrong. I have never confronted them on this topic. I didn’t really know until recently that something was terribly amiss.
So, if they didn’t know they were screwed up – felt like they were doing a good job – how can I be sure?
I look for patterns. I know I had all of the signs – disinterest in school, bad grades, anti-social, ran away from home, lied and tried to keep my parents from sending me over to my perpetrator’s house. My parents were too self-absorbed or thick to notice.
I admit openly to seeing my daughter as my redemption. If I can just get her through to the other side in one piece – whole, knowing she is loved and protected then I have succeeded. I know that this is a dangerous thing – but I am ok with it. I don’t see how I would change my stance. It’s what I do.