Maple Leaf Angus
Well-known member
I know, I know, I know, it is inevitable. But that doesn't mean that I like all the feelings it leaves me with.
Yesterday, our daughter drove out the lane to start her first day of college in the nursing program. I am proud as could be of her. She is a super smart, talented and capable young woman. She ended up with her Mom's good looks, too.
From the time she was old enough to be out working with me, she was my little rock. Of our 4 kids, she was the one who would not back down when her dad got mad and would send sparks flying all around him. (It's the embarassing truth - I'm a bit of a hot head) She would just unflinchingly look back at me with those beautiful, smokey blue eyes.
I guess it's not strange that she is also the one kid of ours that I would have the hottest fights with. She is also the one kid who knew how to pour oil on troubled waters when I would get in a grumpy frame of mind.
All of our kids could run the combine and other machinery like old pros, but it was Amanda that had that buggy under the combine unloading auger on time every time. The bin would be filling up and I would be sweating because I didn't like to wait for the buggy to get back.
Then at the far end of the farm, the distant speck of dust would materialize into a hurtling tractor and grain buggy. She would come flying up beside me so fast, I thought she would go shooting right past, but when the buggy was centered under the spout, she would slam on the brakes and match the combine speed perfectly. We seldom spilled a kernel.
She has got it all.
She choose to work in community support work for almost 2 years after finishing highschool so she would be more mature to face the pressure of college, as well as being able to pay her own way though school.
What's not to admire about that?
But, as I am sure that many others on here have learned, there is a bittersweet feeling that goes with watching a kid leave the nest and move to another sphere of independence. One on level, it is a sign of healthy individuation and development. Yet on another, I don't want to let go of my little girl.
O.K., she's not a little girl anymore. I know, I know, I know it is all inevitable. But that doesn't mean that I like all the feelings it leaves me with.
Sorry, if this got too long for you, but it helped me get it out. And I don't mind saying that I cried while I was wrtiting it.
Yesterday, our daughter drove out the lane to start her first day of college in the nursing program. I am proud as could be of her. She is a super smart, talented and capable young woman. She ended up with her Mom's good looks, too.
From the time she was old enough to be out working with me, she was my little rock. Of our 4 kids, she was the one who would not back down when her dad got mad and would send sparks flying all around him. (It's the embarassing truth - I'm a bit of a hot head) She would just unflinchingly look back at me with those beautiful, smokey blue eyes.
I guess it's not strange that she is also the one kid of ours that I would have the hottest fights with. She is also the one kid who knew how to pour oil on troubled waters when I would get in a grumpy frame of mind.
All of our kids could run the combine and other machinery like old pros, but it was Amanda that had that buggy under the combine unloading auger on time every time. The bin would be filling up and I would be sweating because I didn't like to wait for the buggy to get back.
Then at the far end of the farm, the distant speck of dust would materialize into a hurtling tractor and grain buggy. She would come flying up beside me so fast, I thought she would go shooting right past, but when the buggy was centered under the spout, she would slam on the brakes and match the combine speed perfectly. We seldom spilled a kernel.
She has got it all.
She choose to work in community support work for almost 2 years after finishing highschool so she would be more mature to face the pressure of college, as well as being able to pay her own way though school.
What's not to admire about that?
But, as I am sure that many others on here have learned, there is a bittersweet feeling that goes with watching a kid leave the nest and move to another sphere of independence. One on level, it is a sign of healthy individuation and development. Yet on another, I don't want to let go of my little girl.
O.K., she's not a little girl anymore. I know, I know, I know it is all inevitable. But that doesn't mean that I like all the feelings it leaves me with.
Sorry, if this got too long for you, but it helped me get it out. And I don't mind saying that I cried while I was wrtiting it.