Monday, October 20, 2014

The Purpose of Life is to Live It.

I've always loved this quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, and reach for it whenever I need encouragement. But this weekend, it really hit home that I need to let it apply to my daughters' lives too. 

With every college application, homecoming dance, and other senior year experience, the fact that my oldest will be leaving home becomes less abstract. I want her to be able to live this quote even though I know that pain will be part of her journey. 

My heart wants to keep my daughters innocent and shelter them from everything bad in the world, from failures, mistakes, and pain. My head knows it's years too late for that, even if it were possible.

When my oldest was a baby, I dismissed the sleep training experts who encouraged letting babies cry it out and learn to self-soothe. Instead, I relied on Dr. Spock's admonition to trust myself. I rocked her to sleep, or sat beside her crib until she fell sound asleep, believing that it was critical that she knew someone would always be there for her. I wanted that knowledge to be part of her essence, her very being. She had years to figure out how to fall asleep on her own.

Our night time routine evolved into my tucking her in every night, lying next to her telling stories and talking about whatever was on her mind. Almost six years later, I did the same with her sister. That time spent together became almost sacred in our family and continued until each was about 11 years old. Then, without discussion or even saying a word, they each began going to bed on their own.

What does our nighttime routine have to do with preparing them to live life to its fullest? Everything, I think. Over and over again, as a manager, a parent, a friend, and a caregiver, I've seen the difference that results from knowing there is someone in your corner, that someone cares deeply for you, even when a mistake is made or plans go awry. My high school senior is in the throes of figuring out how she wants to live her life. It's a process that will likely take years as she decides which experiences she wants to taste along the way. All I can hope is that she reaches out eagerly and without fear, knowing that I'll be here no matter what. 

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