Hands-Free
Original artwork by L - her Mother's Day gift to me 2009
I can still remember those early first moments when my daughter’s small toddler sticky hand reached way up to hold my mommy steady hand reaching way down, and in the middle of that space filled with love, our hands met.
Walking hand-in-hand everywhere became our normal. We walked to the potty, to the bookshelf, to the car, upstairs and downstairs, and all over the zoo. As time passed, holding hands didn’t. We still walked together holding that space of love between us: two hands clasped together.
While driving home one night last week, my daughter (now only a month shy of thirteen), rather ceremoniously made her announcement: “Mom, I don’t want to hold hands with you anymore.”
I thought I was prepared for anything, but I wasn’t prepared for that.
As soon as we got through the front door, L bounded upstairs to her room, leaving me behind, grasping for something to hold.
Crying about it seems so selfish, really. Isn’t the fact that she’s growing into a beautiful and independent young woman, a return on investment to make any mother proud?
An hour later, my girl cautiously approached me as I chopped green onions for our supper. She hesitantly asked if I was okay. I deflected, making some self-deprecating remark in hopes of staving off the tears’ return. She talked right past my weak tactic and more specifically inquired if I was going to be okay not holding her hand anymore.
As I turned to face her, tears filled my eyes again. I assured her that while this is undeniably difficult for me, I would never rob her this next step she’s taking toward holding up herself, and wow – these sure are some strong green onions.
The following afternoon, again while driving, L quietly took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. That’s when I realized that nothing will ever displace the love between us; I just won’t have the sticky hand to prove it to you.
very sweet…and I think L is very intuitive. It sounds like you have a wonderful relationship and she may not want to hold your hand anymore but we know you hold her heart forever. ( =
That made me cry. I totally can’t think about that right now. My daughter is two and a half and she already has put some independent little steps between us that break my heart a little. So proud to see her growing up healthy and strong, but I miss the baby that needs me all the time :(.
Why you gotta make me cry at work???? I wear liquid eyeliner!!! I am not ready for this eiether.
@Katrina – thank you.
@Stay at Home Babe – I still can’t think about it and it’s already happened.
@Jennifer – sorry.
I think that you and L. are such beautiful reflections of each other. The love and respect you each have for the other is heart-warmingly beautiful. The self-awareness that L. displays is as awesome as it is mature for a girl her age ~ and so as you shed a tear for what you feel you’ve just lost … please also celebrate the safe and loving place you have provided her to grow into her Self while still honouring you along the way.
The worst thing we can do to our children is to put our emotional overlays on them. Our feelings of sadness and loss as they reach every milestone of maturation and independence cannot be allowed to become their burden to carry.
You know this – that’s clear. And believe me when I tell you – this gets easier with practice. My girls are 15 yrs and 14 yrs old right now – and there’s so much I miss of times and moments we once shared. (Remember we tweeted once about how ReadAlongs and/or Reading Out Loud no longer exists with them? That’s one of many rituals that now exist in memory alone.)
Your heart is going to crack open again and again ~ and each time it does, remember how instrumental you are to L creating her Self to be whoever and whatever she can imagine herself to be. And continue to be the loving parent that will never have to wonder, “Who might my child have been if I had not gotten in the way?” xx
Sally – thank you for your beautiful and kind words. I got choked up reading your comment. I completely agree that giving our children the space, freedom, and permission to be themselves is ultimately the greatest gift of love we can offer.
I just have to say it because it just has to be said:
Our kids growing up sucks.
Luckily, at 4, my son isn’t old enough to know how insane I drive him. I need reassurance that he loves me, that I’m the best mommy. He’s so affectionate. He showers me with hugs and kisses and tonight he fell asleep holding my hand.
I know these days will end. That’s why I savor every single second of it that I have.
My babies are 20 and 22 and I still miss holding their sticky little hands.
Well written. You have a transparency that is refreshing. Thanks for sharing your heart.
I love that she asked if you were OK and then squeezed your hand in a kind gesture. Sounds like she’s a really good kid. You have every reason to be proud of your return on investment.
That was very touching Arminda! We all deal with traditional milestones in life. And as we pass more and more it gets a bit nerve racking!
But are you sure it wasn’t because you were serving only green onions for dinner that she was taking a stand? 8)
I can only hope my youngest has the same sensitivity when she hits that age. I think she will. I fear her growing, not because of the world, but because she won’t need me… so universal
Arminda,
You beautifully share how bittersweet it is to experience our children growing into their own independent people. My boys are 12 and 16 now and every day they take another step into the lives they’re building. In just a few short years (which are flashing by at blazing speed now) their lives won’t include me on a daily basis. I’m so proud of them, and it tugs at my heart strings. Makes every hug (and hand squeeze) dear.
Cheryl
@Karen – it’s certainly a bitter-sweet experience.
@Fadra – I’m so glad you’re savoring the moments. I am happy to report that the sweet moments don’t end, but they do become more rare.
@Jim – I am so delighted you chimed in on the discussion. Thank you for reading and for sharing your love of sticky hands, as well.
@Gini – Oh, she is so great. I truly am astounded as I look at her and I love watching her *become.*
@Howie – you raise a valid point. Sometimes I wonder if my uber-healthy meal presentations are driving a wedge between us. Thank you for raising the flag of awareness.
@Todd – Not need me? Not need you? Impossible. Right? Please?
@Cheryl – Every hug and hand squeeze is precious, indeed. Thank you for your comment.
Gini lead me here to cry! Thank you Arminda for a sweet and beautiful post.
My daughter is only 3 and I know I will be crying when she no longer wants to hold my hand. Currently I cherish when she says: Mwah!, I gave you a kiss. You are happy mama! When she knows she has done something to upset me. And the funny thing is that she makes me smile every time and the reason for being upset seems to dissipate!
Happy Mother’s Day!
Thanks for sharing Arminda. For me, proclaiming I’m a grumpy old man is sort of like, my chopping strong onion cover for tears. You’re a good mom wanting to hold the hand that you also know you need to let go of. Happy Mom’s Day to you & your daughter.
@Expat – Gini is mean that way, but I’m glad she lead you here, anyway. I remember 3 like it was yesterday. There hasn’t been an age yet that I didn’t love and feel was my favorite stage! Every year has been special and unique. I’m sure you return the kisses, and with extra, too!
@Teddy – I’m glad you’re a grumpy old man, if that’s what you want to tell yourself to sleep better at night.
And thank you, both, for the Mother’s Day wishes!
Happy Mothers Day! You express yourself so beautifully.
@Samantha – thank you so much!
My daughter is six and I’ve welcomed with great joy all the milestones so far – walking, talking, writing. Even getting her on the bus for the first day of kindergarten made me feel happy. But, now that she is learning to read….This one is hardest of all. I have this awful angel/devil on my shoulder. The angel is SO excited for her to learn to read because the whole world will open up for her as it did for me. The devil whispers that I don’t want her to learn too quickly because then bedtime story time will be a thing of the past. I feel this conflict every time she reads to me. Excited, sad, excited, sad. Reading – the toughest milestone for me so far.
Katherine (got here via Gini)
@Katherine – this is one not to worry about. My daughter still loves for me to read out loud to her. I think it’s all in how you parent your way through it. Of course you’re excited for her to learn to read – as you should be! But, of course, you still want to share that reading time together. So you do both. She gets to read to you as she’s learning, but perhaps bedtime is still reserved for you reading to her. I’m sure you’ll figure it out in a way that makes sense for both of you. As my daughter continues to grow, she and I still read together, and we both absolutely LOVE the books we share; they’re just larger books now!