Sacrifice…

As parents, we make sacrifices to help our children reach toward the goal of being productive (and hopefully happy) members of society.

Many years of teaching them, trying to set good examples, doling out gentle discipline and above all offering love in hopes that our children will become adults who feel good about who they are and the choices they make.

As parents, we sometimes sacrifice opportunities for personal or financial gain, give our time (and in the early years many hours of precious sleep!) with the intent to do what is best for our children. If we expect nothing in return, we may truly delight in whatever joys come to us through our children.

Not every child grows up this way. I speak from personal experience. I don’t care to have a go at my parents in this post, it’s no secret that my upbringing was less than idyllic.

I wanted my daughter’s upbringing to be different than my own. My parenting choices at times have fallen under criticism, my goal was and always will be to be a parent that can be counted on through thick and thin. My daughter went through tough times after her dad and I divorced; and then again when her stepfather left.  I didn’t care how much ribbing I endured about running to her side when she said she needed me, nothing could stop me. Whether it was dropping whatever I was doing, or taking her 2 am phone calls in first year university, I was going to do whatever it took for her to know that I would be there for her. That I could always be trusted.

My daughter has many times told me how grateful she is that I never failed to be there when she needed me. Not to say I didn’t make many mistakes along the way in raising her, absolutely there are things I might have done differently given another chance. As my own mother told me, the first child is the “try baby”. You try to do your best, but hopefully learn from what does and doesn’t work and refine your technique with subsequent children.

My daughter was my one and only shot at parenting. One could argue until blue in the face how much of a child’s behaviour and personality come from nature vs. nurture, but I’m going to allow myself a small amount of credit that trying to do right by her led in small part to her being the wonderful young woman she is today.

In an ideal world, I envision myself easing her mind when she has jitters about entering the work force, listening to her as she stresses about wedding planning, reassuring her that she’s doing her best when the toilet training of her little one isn’t going as smoothly as she hoped. Reminding her that along with the tough challenges in life come moments that can bring such joy they can seem surreal. It’s unlikely that I will be around to support her as her life plays out. If we allowed ourselves to wallow in this reality, we wouldn’t have room to continue to make new happy memories together while I’m still here.

Sometimes she tells me that she’s fearful that she’ll make poor choices if I’m not around to offer guidance. If I allow myself that I did the best I could as her mother, I tell her that I have every confidence that she already knows the answers that are right for her.

I’m lucky to have had a child to make sacrifices for. Although in my younger days I was convinced that I didn’t want children, by the time my daughter came along there wasn’t anything I had ever wanted more.

My daughter is now making tremendous sacrifices for me. It’s the last thing I would have ever wanted, my goal was always to do the best I could in my role as her mother and send her off into the world to find her own life. I knew that I would always be included as an important part of her future, but she was free to make her own choices – my job was more or less over.

She’s putting her future on hold to help me. Come September, she’s not returning to university.

It’s been a tremendously hard school year for her. As much as I tried to keep the details of my declining health from her (with that you may correctly assume that I’ve also not shared many details with the readers of this blog), it was impossible to shield her from the visible evidence when she would visit home.

Coming home became more and more of a challenge for her, the guilt of leaving me at the end of a weekend visit became more agonizing for her. It became more difficult to concentrate on her studies, and it wasn’t made any easier by others suggesting that she ought to be at home with her ailing mother instead of at school.

If it were my choice, I’d ask her to go back to school. The thought that she might not go back later scares me. She has passion, potential, intellect and an unwavering curiosity. Good things lay ahead for her, of this I am sure.

It’s time to sit back and trust that if I have done the best job I could do as her mother over the last nineteen years, she’s now making the best choices for herself. Even if it means shelving immediate educational goals to be by my side.

How blessed I am that my daughter would make such an immense sacrifice to ensure that I’m not alone on the next part of my journey. A gift I didn’t expect, and didn’t ask for, but will appreciate with every last breath. And I will pray that karma ensures that the remaining decades of her life bring less heartache to her than the first two.