RECALLING MY DAUGHTER'S TROUBLED YOUTH
I never knew what time my daughter arose on a given day. She wasn't home much. She was eighteen and hadn't lived by my rules since she was twelve. She was the only kid I knew who played hooky in the first grade to go shoplifting at the candy store. As much as it hurt me that she didn't respect my Christian values or the example I hoped to set for her three younger brothers, I did the best I could as a single parent. I tried to be gentle, kind and positive. She was prone to manic-depressive episodes.
I opened her door one morning at 11:45 AM to offer her food, not knowing she was asleep with some guy in her bed.
Oops.
Well, it would have been oops, if I'd seen him. I had not. Her room was too messy. She told me politely to knock the next time.
I said, "Okay," not knowing the black spiked hair she clung to was not a teddy bear.
Later, that afternoon, she came downstairs and a young man followed her. She introduced me to this guy named Patrick. He was courteous and well-mannered.
"OH!" I said, caught off guard. "I didn't even see you in there. I thought you were a teddy bear."
Heather asked me if I knew where her ID was. She needed it for a new job she was starting.
I said, "Your room, most likely. But good luck finding it. I couldn't even find Patrick in there."
They both laughed.
I went on, "Patrick. If you hear any cries for help coming from underneath Heather's bed, shove some food under there. It may be a previous boyfriend."
Surprisingly, they both found my humor refreshing. I heard him say on their way out, "You have a nice mom."
"Yeah," she said. "I do."
I opened her door one morning at 11:45 AM to offer her food, not knowing she was asleep with some guy in her bed.
Oops.
Well, it would have been oops, if I'd seen him. I had not. Her room was too messy. She told me politely to knock the next time.
I said, "Okay," not knowing the black spiked hair she clung to was not a teddy bear.
Later, that afternoon, she came downstairs and a young man followed her. She introduced me to this guy named Patrick. He was courteous and well-mannered.
"OH!" I said, caught off guard. "I didn't even see you in there. I thought you were a teddy bear."
Heather asked me if I knew where her ID was. She needed it for a new job she was starting.
I said, "Your room, most likely. But good luck finding it. I couldn't even find Patrick in there."
They both laughed.
I went on, "Patrick. If you hear any cries for help coming from underneath Heather's bed, shove some food under there. It may be a previous boyfriend."
Surprisingly, they both found my humor refreshing. I heard him say on their way out, "You have a nice mom."
"Yeah," she said. "I do."
posted by Elizabeth Van Cleve Randolph | 3:31 PM
1 Comments:
I knew a Patrick from Texas that ended up married in California with a little girl--It would be something of a small world if it were he?? lol
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