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It's a fairly long ride to
Illinois State University. That's where the big guy
and I are heading this bright and sunny Sunday
morning. Summer has come to an end for our college
bound daughter.
Two days ago, father and daughter
drove this well ridden road together on the official
move in day. Today, the Explorer is packed with an
entertainment center and a few of the 'must have' odds
and ends that were forgotten on that first trip down.
Summer is fading fast into the
sunset signaling, for us, another school year of
hauling our daughter' worldly possessions to the other
end of Illinois and hauling it all back home again.
I'm learning to enjoy these
rides, though I can't help but cringe every time I
realize that each year brings our daughter that much
closer to adulthood.
The country station is the only
channel that still comes through clearly on the
radio. I like to listen to country music once in
awhile - every tune tells a tale that ends in some
meaningful thought.
Ironically, there's a song
playing called, "The Good Stuff. ' I don't know who
sings it but every time I hear it , the sentiment
brings tears to my eyes.
In the song, an old bar keep sets
a young man straight on the truly important things in
life. Their paths cross when the young guy walks into
the bar after having a fight with his wife. In pure
country style the song is sung about the old bar keep
who reminisces about eating cold burnt suppers the
whole first year of married life and asking for
seconds to keep his new bride from tearing up. The
song tells the tale of what a man feels at the sight
of his wife holding their baby daughter for the very
first time, and the many years later when he has the
chance to hold his wife's hand the day God called
her home.
If I were to write a song about
'the good stuff' I would have to include the sight of
my then Kindergartener who, with the help of a little
school chum, stood at the back door covered in mud
from head to toe from the pool they made in the yard.
They left the hose run in a section of dirt where a
real pool use to be. With big brown eyes and a smile
from ear to ear she apologized and said, ???Mommy, I
know you're mad, but if you were a kid you'd
understand."
My song of the good stuff would
have to include the millions of miles of memories
stretched across a lifetime of imperfections and
unexpected heartbreak.
There are times, like now, when I
feel my child is drifting away from me. She has her
own life, her own decisions to make and it leaves me
wondering--did I do my best by her?
Will she remember me as a mother
who wanted the best for her or will she only remember
the times I seemed to be a frazzled mix of rules and
nagging?
But, then I'm reminded of some
of the good stuff that has blessed my days -- like
the greeting card from my then 5 year old that she
picked out all by herself. It had a bright aqua
blue background with a heart of hot pink. When I
opened it the inside message simply said--'you make my
heart smile.' It was signed with X??™s and O's. Though
that card is now tattered and yellowed with age it is
my reminder that I must've done something right in the
mothering department.
Our daughter still has a lot of
growing up to do. Thankfully there is still so much
more she has left to teach me.
In our path of parenting we've
still got quite a distance to go before we reach our
destination; and if we're truly lucky we'll be blessed
with the good stuff all the days of our lives.
With country music surrounding us
and blue skies leading the way, I glance over at my
husband, whose eyes are focused on the road ahead --
and -- I know from where the old bar keep sings.
*** *** ***
Kathy Whirity lives in Chicago
where she shares her life and love with her husband,
Bill, their two daughters, Jaime and Katie, and two
rambunctious retrievers, Holly and Hannah. Kathy i a
family life columnist for two area newspapers. For
more of Kathy's writings you may visit her web page:
KATHY WHIRITY'S MUSINGS FROM THE HEART
http://www.heartwarmers4u.com/members?kathyw |
