Saturday, June 19, 2010

Hey Now

I was looking up a boy that my daughter knew who killed himself this past March. When he died, she never said much about it and just went about her business. It wasn't until tonight that I found out that they had been really good friends and that she missed him terribly.
I don't see my kid cry much, but she finally admitted to me about missing this boy. She has been fighting depression this past couple years, and I have been fighting to not be such an anxious control freak and just try to support her instead of control her.
Anyway, I digress. I looked up someone's livejournal entry about his death, and happened to notice that my daughter had commented on it (I still amaze myself that I knew it was her handle), so then I decided to check out her blog. It was pretty cool, and I have to say that I have a very talented and emotionally charged daughter who has a lot of talent and things to say.......just not to her mother. I kind of feel like a voyeur, but I feel that this is how I will know her in some respects. We all say that we portray ourselves differently over the journals and facebooks, and that's true. So, being the livejournal voyeur, I hope to see another side to this young lady that I thought I knew, but, now being seventeen, maybe I don't. There's a song from Augustana called "Hey Now". Reading her stuff made that song play in my head. Check it out on For now, I'm going to get to know a side to my daughter that I know I have no control over. Oh, God, I pray to learn to give her to You and not be such a control freak.

Love to all

1 comment:

  1. Parenting and dog ownership have few apparent parallels, however, since I have experience with the latter and none with the former, all I have to say is: "give her some more leash." You've prepared her for life thus far as best you can. It's time for her to take those lessons and put them into use, or break a few rules and find out why they are there. My lovely wife often frets over how much freedom I give the dog, but she is also often astounded at how well he fares.

    And, forgive me, but I am certain God has his hands full elsewhere. He hasn't seen fit to allow a child into our home, I can only assume he is either busy or enjoys rending hearts asunder.

    You are a fine mother! I am sure, somewhere, deep in her psyche, in a place she never shares with the public, she has a special little room, decorated in a slight twilight motif, with red velvet, and lots of steel buttons and blood red bows and cool things you like, and it has on the door on an old fashioned brass plate, engraved the title "Proud of My MOM!" Inside, if you look closely, there are records and trinkets from all the things you have done for her and she has noticed, but not told you. It's there. Take my poor flawed childless male word for it.