I'm No Longer Needed and It's Kind of Wonderful

The time comes in every parents' life, when we realize that our children are adults, are able to make their own decisions and may/may not want or need us to express our opinions and ideas.  It may be when they turn 18 or 21 years of age, when they get married, move out of the house or begin a career. 

For me, it was after Kitty died.

Until that time, I wasn't prepared to let Mandy go.  I didn't feel she was capable of getting on without my guidance.  After all, look who she chose to marry.   She and I went through a REALLY difficult period of limited interaction.  I strongly felt that she needed my opinions and she most definitely thought otherwise.

Over the first five years of her marriage, Mandy gained understanding as to why I had been concerned about her relationship with son-in-law.  Being married to him and living as the wife of an alcoholic became very real.  She never spoke about the difficulties.  She didn't have to - I saw them.  I never said anything and we managed to get back to semi-normal.

Then we lost Kitty.

That's when I began to notice a change in my daughter.  She and son-in-law handled all of Kitty's arrangements alone.  Mandy gave the eulogy - to everyone's amazement - without breaking down.  The only help she asked for was putting together picture boards to display at the visitation and weeks later, proofreading Kitty's grave marker to double check for correct spelling and dates.

More recently, as legal matters have wound down, I heard  from one of her lawyers how impressed the legal team is with Mandy; how she held herself together working with them and dealing with her awful situation.  I often hear from my grief group partners how unusual it is that her marriage to son-in-law has grown stronger - unlike many couples who fall apart when a child dies.

Mandy and I now have a much closer and stronger bond than ever.  A few weeks ago, I told her that I always thought it would be her.  I had a feeling there would be a day that she didn't come home.  How was I to know it was Kitty who would die, not Mandy?  Losing her child was what I had feared for myself.  She understands now why I was so opposed to and fearful of that wedding eight years ago. 

My fear became her reality.

In the weeks, months and years following Kitty's death, it has become gradually more obvious that Mandy doesn't need my opinion anymore.  In a sense, she doesn't need me anymore.  She found the confidence in herself to handle a tragic, senseless situation without mom, dad or anyone else holding her hand. 

Does she realize that about herself?  Probably not. 

But I feel extremely accomplished and proud knowing that I raised a strong, respected, independent, capable and confident woman who can move forward ... without me.