Eighteen Balloons

Eighteen balloons fill her room as she wakes up. It is her eighteenth birthday and I can’t believe it. She is now an adult. The little sweet baby born on a warm April night has been raised to adulthood. I am sad and happy at the same time.

“Has it been easy?”

“No, but I’ve loved it.” I’d say to those who stop to ask.

This is the truth. It wasn’t easy. Motherhood has never been a piece of cake for me. And as I think about it now, I see all the moments like a mural. Up close the story appears to be all swirls and lines that flow together to form something. Standing in close proximity makes it almost impossible to see if the image is good or bad. I have to step back to get the big picture. 

In parenting there are not a lot of stepping back moments when you get a chance to take in a deep breath and assess your work as if it was a piece of art, but she is eighteen today. This is the moment to look back…

If I have the courage.

Oh but the heart is weak. Time did what it always does and kept creeping by when I wasn’t looking or paying attention. One moment I was propping her up on pillows to get a picture of her little body. Only a few months old she couldn’t sit up on her own or control her sweet little head yet. I had spend weeks painting her baby nursery in pink, purple, teal, and white. I tried to tease the little puff of hair on the top of her head so I could put a bow in it. I spent hours dressing her in the little baby clothes she received from friends and family. 

Elaina was my doll.

Now she is her own person. She doesn’t like frilly dresses. She doesn’t enjoy me pampering her. She is fine with doing things on her own, but as she moves to college this fall, she will be on her own. I write this so I can believe it.

I will never forget the way she strutted into kindergarten without looking back, and now she will be walking across the graduation stage. This time I pray she will look my way, just once, so I can smile at her and say, “That a girl!” you got this.”

I know that though Elaina looks tough and she acts like she is fine on her own, she still loves me. I pray that she will be strong enough for the college life ahead without her mommy, but I worry. Maybe I worry because I want to be there. I want to feel needed. Or maybe I realize that as a grown woman I still need my mom.

When I am happy I pick up the phone to call her. When I am sad I pick up the phone to call her. When I can’t quite remember a recipe I call her. The truth is I share life with my mom often, because there is something special about how she cheers me on. There is something special about how she prays. I can count on my mom to care and to have my best interest at heart.

I hope Elaina knows this is what I want to be for her. As she awakes to the balloons celebrating her big eighteen year bench mark I hope she knows I love her. I hope she instinctively feels the bond between us strong as life time.

Life is big at eighteen. The options are overwhelming. I hope as she looks at all she could do, and all the places she could go she will stop to pray. She will stop to consider. I don’t want her to be afraid but I don’t want her to just join the crowd. I hope that she will work hard for the shear satisfaction of it. I pray she will be picky about the man that she choses and remember all the things that make her own father great and find a man like that.

Oh Elaina. I love you. I love your gentle heart. I admire your sense of passion about your calling to act. You will grow and become a wonderful actress and much more. I know that you will work out your thoughts on faith. Right now they are jumbled within your teenage brain, but as you go on your way you will be drawn back to your roots. I hope you walk with less insecurity than I ever did. I hope you are more honest than I ever was.

I remember as I held you in my arms how I hoped great things for you. I remember the way you loved me. The way your little hand fit right inside of mine. I also remember the years of struggle. The shame I felt that I couldn’t help you with the embarrassing things. I remember, sadly, my anger when we couldn’t find a cure.

If only I could have a redo. That is the negative angle of time. There are no redo’s, only apologies. I am sorry that I have failed you in big ways. I hope that those hurts will be healed into scars that are covered with forgiveness. That as you recount the negative things you can smile and say, but we got through it and forgave.”

In life that is the biggest lesson I can give you. To get through the hard times, heal, and forgive. It is the biggest lesson and the most redundant experience I have found in life. I hate to say that life is hard, but it is. And it sounds cliche to write God is good, but He is.

This world is spinning fast and the way of the world is spinning out of control. Be anchored in your faith. Hold on to the love of Jesus. He gave his life to save all mankind, don’t walk away because you have heard about him your whole life. 

Turning eighteen means you are turning into a young adult who has to make up her own mind. I have to let go and stand back. Thats why I filled your room with eighteen colorful balloons all filled with helium. It was a struggle to get them in the van. They moved and pushed toward the windows ands door as I drove home. And when the wind found them I almost lost hold of a few but I held on stronger. And that is what I want to tell you. I am holding on to all the love and joy, all the hope, and perseverance that has formed us into mother and daughter, and darling I am here for you with open arms when you need reassurance that you can do this.

You are eighteen. You are bold and beautiful, but you will always be mine, so please remember you always have a life line. Even when the wind catches hold of your balloons and wants to send them sailing, you have an anchor. And though you walk on your own, you are never alone.

Love,

Mom

The day after her birthday I was in the kitchen when Elaina came up to me. I could tell she had been crying. Her arms were around me quicker than any words to explain the sudden emotion. I wracked my brain to figure out what was wrong, but this is what she said: “I read it mom, you entitled it, “Elaina” so when I opened your computer I read it.” She looked up at me with the look that has melted my heart countless times, “And I loved it, Mom.”

Writing to those we truly love can be hard. In reality if we are fully known by someone it usually means there is a little water under the bridge. Sometimes it is a battle to sit down and write out our feelings. I was reminded as her arms enveloped me, it is important to tell our loved ones how we feel about them anyway. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I should share this blog with anyone, and even with her. I felt vulnerable to share my deepest feeling about her yet as she read it she felt a deeper sense of my love. It’s easy to assume our loved ones already know how we feel, but in reality all of us still need to hear how much we matter to one another.

Have you taken the time lately to tell someone how much you love them? Who has been on your mind lately, that you know you couldn’t live without? Take time today to jot down some words, or pick up the phone. Take a moment to remind that person how special they are to you. Your words could be like happy balloons filling their dreary day with a little celebration.