Terms of Endearment

I don't want to be the one that lets go first. Shana and I have sort of worked out our own terms. I'm clingy and huggy and have a freaky need to be over involved in her life. She's gotten used to it. A perfect balance. Maybe it's a typical only child, mother-daughter phenomenon. Maybe it's a "don't blame me for all of your problems when you grow up, I did all I could" preventative measure. Maybe I'm just weird. I always think of that scene in Terms of Endearment  "Momma, that's the first time I stopped hugging first" when I wonder when is the right time to let go. I try to give her space and now that she's more than a car drive away, we've had to find new ways to stay connected. I been backing off and check up on her in less intrusive ways. I stalk her on facebook, searching for the last message, the last post to somebody else's wall just to know she's ok. I watch her checking account, too. What city is she visiting? What's she buying? Fun restaurant yesterday. Hostel deposit and an ATM withdrawal today. Things look good. She's grown up and moved away. She'll be twenty years old next week. Big breath. Twenty. So the time is getting closer for me to back off even more, right? Let out the kite string, watch her fly.

But when there's too much string, she lets me know it. MOM! Pick up! Get on Skype! Check your email. WHERE ARE YOU? I need you! 

Can't let go yet.