As a parent I spend a large part of each and every day protecting my children. It’s instinctive, and obviously predictable since my kids have taken to cutting off my warnings with “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be careful.” But I do worry. I’m wired to worry. My 15 year old son is going to Italy next spring, and I’m already worrying. Oh, he’ll go, suffer through my endless instructions and still have a marvelous time. Because, despite my nerves, I’ve always understood that my job as a parent is to raise my children to leave me.
Another part of my job is deciding when each of my children is ready for an experience. So far that has encompassed PG-13 movies, walking home from school with friends, a trip abroad, and going miniature golfing with the gang – read: no adults. There are thousands of these little things, each one a step toward adulthood, each one timed so that goal isn’t reached too quickly.
But every now and then something happens that you simply aren’t ready for as a parent. Something that thrusts your child into a world you haven’t prepared them for. My 12 year old daughter has entered that world, and I feel helpless and out of control. You see, my daughter was friends with Jimmy, the 12 year old who was killed, along with his parents, in that tragic car accident last weekend. Today she has asked me to take her to the funeral home so she can pay her respects to the family.
Everything about this situation is horrific. When I think of what happened I get sick to my stomach, and I, as an adult, know these things happen. It’s why parents worry. I understand why my daughter wants to go today, and I’m proud of her. What concerns me is how she’ll handle what she’s walking into. So much for baby steps towards adulthood. This week my baby lost a big piece of her childhood.
My husband and I have been watching her (and talking with her) over the last week. We’ve cried with her, laughed with her, and have come to know Jimmy through her deeply personal and heartbreakingly human stories. Yes, she should go today. She has something to say, a gift to give to those left behind. And yes, it will take its toll on her. It already has.