In January of 2015, Kalisha and I and her BC discussed the various things she would need to learn and be proficient with, if she wanted to live in an apartment with a couple other girls one day. We even set the possible future date as the end of the year.
Guess what! Today is June 1, which means we are almost halfway to the end of 2015 and I don't feel as though I am dealing with this "letting go" very well.
You see, it isn't just Kalisha who has to make adjustments; it is me, also.
I have been holding on tightly since she was little and more so, after we knew there were always going to be obstacles for her.
I am having a hard time reminding myself she is an adult in so many ways and can make most decisions on her own. We attended a Memorial Day cookout at some friends' house. I asked if she wanted some lemonade and immediately poured a glass and gave it to her. Even in the middle of pouring, I was telling myself, 'Kalisha could pour her own lemonade. Why are you doing it?'
I am working on this and nearly every day I catch myself in mid-sentence or mid-action assessing her capabilities to do something herself. In fact, it has become a source of some amusement.
I asked Kalisha a few days ago if she really wanted to wear her new shirt on a "stay at home" day. As the words came out of my mouth, I immediately said, "Never mind. It's your shirt and you can certainly decide when you want to wear it."
Her response was, "Yeah, Mom, I can sit here in the nude if I want to."
(Well, I might draw the line at that.)
There are a million things (or so it seems) I need to realize she can do for herself besides the ones she already does.
We have become comfortable with the way things are but if she is to survive after she moves or after I die, I have to work on this.
As tightly as I once held on, I am learning to open my hand and let her pull hers away.
This is so hard. I cried all the while I wrote this.