They were right. I mean, over the years they said an
awful lot, and they were right about more than they were wrong, but they really
nailed it. I’m not sure exactly who they are, and neither are you, but you’ve
heard from them all your life. But when they said you’ll never known pain,
until you see your child suffering, they couldn’t have been more right. Of
course, without passing on some kind of wisdom that would have given me the
ability to alleviate some of my daughters’ pain, they weren’t being all that
helpful.
But they were right all the same. When I was 13, I was
fairly certain I knew hurt, anger and disappointment on a more personal level
than the 13 year olds around me. Because when you’re 13, you know everything
better than anyone else. Now with the little maturity I’ve gained, I’ve learned
that everyone has their own bag of problems they carry with them wherever they
go. It’s the fact I can’t say or do anything, to pass this wisdom on to my own
13 year old that is currently eating me alive. I feel like I’m a five-star meal
for a Burmese python.
I can tell myself that she’s going to be okay. She’s a
super bright girl, with a great sense of humor and heart that no snake could
ever change. And it’s all true, she is that smart and has a huge heart. The
girl that loves art, passed on the opportunity to enroll in the advanced art
class, so she could spend one hour a day working as an assistant to the art
teacher with her special needs class. I mean, sure I’m bragging, but I’d be an
ass to not brag. But knowing she’ll be okay isn’t any help at the moment. Maybe
that’s a ‘Me’ problem, but it is what it is.
I’m learning that telling her stories about my own experiences
as a sensitive, anxious 13 year old (or 38 year old) only really helps me.
Sure, I can commiserate with her, but I still never walked even a step in her
shoes and we both know it. So they were wrong. They said the teenage years are
the hardest, and 7th grade is the hardest year of your life. But it’s
not even close. Seeing your kid go through those years is way harder.
I’m pretty sure I now know exactly how Helen Keller felt
before Anne Sullivan came along. I have so much I want to communicate to her,
some real wisdom (I think), but the sounds won’t make any sense and the
gestures probably just look rude. So if you know a miracle worker…
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