The person in my child's life

As my children have grown older, they have fallen in love and created relationships with others.  The relationships have changed from 'we're dating' meaning hanging out after school, on the phone with and crying at misunderstandings to long term, committed, quietly solid bonds.  With some very nice people.

If dating is hard on the dater, it is equally hard on the parents of the dater.  I love that which enhances and improves my child's life, I abhor that which causes pain or anxiety.  My children want us to approve of their chosen love object, eager to hear glowing appraisal. But when things go bad, it is hard to trust the next person who comes into their heart, for fear of the pain that might inevitably follow.

My children, now in their early twenties, are relationship people.  They do not comfortably play the dating game.  They thrive in monogamous committed unions, most lasting years.  Refreshing in such young folks today.

The people they choose are bright, funny, educated and motivated.  They are good looking and polite.  So, why do I worry?  I worry because they hold the most precious thing in the word to me in the palm of their hands, my babies' hearts.  They have the power of pain and heartbreak over my precious child.  They have the ability to leave irreparable scars in their wake.  Until you've been a mother you don't realize how protective you can be.

I have committed myself to enjoying these wonderful young people for as long as they occupy our lives and not worrying about the future.  Oh, yeah.  Didn't that sound so grown up and balanced?  In reality, I worry.  I worry about my children's hearts.  I worry that I'll grow too fond and lose someone I care about.  I worry about losing the silly animals that these people bring into our lives, especially a goofy Pug named Winston who knows me as Gramma.  I worry that I worry too much.

When our children are small, we protect them from falls and burns and sharp objects and mean animals.  As they age, the threats change, but the sense of protectiveness remains, so we prepare them to independently assess and avoid risk and danger. Then, they fall in love.  And suddenly, all their vulnerabilities are laid bare for the other person to exploit if they so choose. And the parent is out of control.  As we should be, of course, but still...  

I want to bring my babies home, tuck them in all clean and safe, read them to sleep like before, and keep the world away. Where I can keep them from harm.  Where they don't need to be tough or careful.  Where no one can break their heart.

As my husband says, assuming that we will ultimately find that one person with whom we will spend the rest of our lives, then every relationship before that must end.  That means some breakups and some pain. For them and for me.  I just hope we all survive intact and stronger.