Daughter

Last night my daughter fell and hit her head. She'd created an indoor obstacle course, and the ottoman proved to be more topsy turvy than she calculated. She ended up with a big goose egg on the back of her head, and fell asleep shortly afterward, elevating my concern about a concussion. So I slept by her side, waking her every so often to check to see that she was ok.

I woke just before dawn, reassured myself again that she was indeed breathing, and came downstairs to meditate. I wanted to see if I could work through some of the tough feelings I was having before my kids left today for the week.

As I allowed myself to be with the feelings, I started to cry. At first the tears were for me as a mother -- feeling worried about my child, having to send her off to her Dad's with her injury -- but when the really big tears started coming, I saw that they were for me as a daughter. So many layers of grief about the love and care I craved as a child but so often didn't receive. Pondering this today, Pearl Jam came up on the internal shuffle with this heartbreaking number:

The shades go down it's in her head

Painted room...can't deny there's something wrong...

Don't call me daughter not fit to

The picture kept will remind me

Don't call me daughter not fit to

The picture kept will remind me

Don't call me...

She holds the hand that holds her down

She will...rise above

Don't call me daughter, not fit to

The picture kept will remind me

Don't call me daughter, not fit to be

The picture kept will remind me

Don't call me...

The shades go down

The shades go, go, go...

This isn't about indicting my parents. They did the best they could. Sometimes, often even, the best someone can do isn't enough for someone else. It's no one's fault, but it's part of why every child emerges from childhood with scars -- some are just deeper than others.

One of the difficulties in my marriage was my desire to control the environment in an effort to protect my children from enduring the same pain I'd experienced, and though the desire is natural, it was a little misplaced (it isn't possible or even desirable to protect your child from all suffering), and it made it difficult to parent effectively with my husband.

I had to let go of all that when we got divorced, and now, as we enter the phase when another woman will sometimes be the one there when my child is hurting, I have to let go a little bit more...