“All this time believing love meant someone’s leaving…” Edie Carey in Easy Now from her album Bring the Sea
I have abandonment issues. Not the ones you might think, though. I would actually prefer to be abandoned a hundred times over than think that I might be the one responsible for leaving someone else high and dry. The truth is, while the notion of being left behind is sad and a little lonely, I’ve been there before and I know I can handle it. There is a strong sense of power and control and core competency that shows itself when I imagine being abandoned. Almost a righteousness – “See? I don’t need you. You weren’t smart enough to recognize how much I add to your life and how much you ought to be here with me. Your loss.”
No, I am afraid of being the abandoner. From the day my dear Eva was born and I realized the magnitude of my responsibility for her, I have been plagued with occasional moments of panic when I thought I might not be able to rise to the occasion. When Lola came along and Bubba started getting sick, I insulated the ties with my girls by adding layers of steel. Something might happen to him, but I would be damned if I was leaving my girls all alone. No way! I wasn’t going to go away and let them grow up thinking I had abandoned them.
Even in the midst of my greatest depression, it was the stark reality of caring for the girls that kept me going day after day. The knowledge of what a sudden loss can do to a child. How they internalize the reasons, rational or not, and come to believe that they somehow caused this person to leave.
Two days ago Bubba and I drove the girls two hours away to a sleepover camp where they will stay for a week. They were excited, if a little nervous since this marks the first time either of them has been away from home for that long. Each of them invited a close friend to join them, and I know that Eve and Lola will take comfort in knowing that the other is there (although not sharing the same cabin, “Thank goodness!”) and our good-byes were blessedly free of tears or clinging.
Three months ago when I signed the girls up for this camp I was thrilled. The notion of having both girls away in a safe place for a week in the summertime left me with all sorts of possibilities for ways Bubba and I could enjoy time alone together. I threatened him with a thorough neck-wringing if he scheduled a business trip during this one, precious week.
He did.
In his defense, it is a very necessary trip to visit a very important client.
In his defense, it is only for two nights and he invited me to come along.
So I am.
And I sailed over the first hurdle quite cleanly, thank you. When Bubba asked me what our contingency plan was should the camp call with news that someone is sick or Lola has broken a(nother) bone, I replied that we would have their aunt go pick them up and I would immediately fly home and everything would be fine.
This second hurdle is a bitch. Last night it occurred to me that it was possible that something might happen to Bubba and I. I chose not to tell the girls that we would be away for two nights while they were gone because I knew it would only stress them out. (Who will take care of the animals? What if I need you?) So, whether it is that karma coming back to bite me in the ass, or simply the imaginings of an over-enmeshed mother, I don’t know, but images of plane crashes and earthquakes kept slicing through my thoughts last night.
I grabbed Bubba and made him promise to call his sister this morning and tell her to get the kids and bring them home if something happened to us. I contemplated writing them long letters full of love and hope and promise “just in case.” I began envisioning their utter confusion giving way to hurt as they realized we had lied to them and left home.
And the friendly angel on my other shoulder keeps whispering in my ear that I am no more likely to get hurt away from home than I am at home. She strokes my head and says that there is no law or moral code that says I have to stay home alone and hold down the fort just because they are away. It is really no different than them being at school all day or on an overnight at a friend’s house. Why should I have to stay here?
Logically, that makes sense and I love this little sweetie for telling me. But what I keep bumping up against is this: I was okay when the girls left because I don’t mind being left, but the thought that I might be the one doing the leaving is nearly unbearable. If I stay home, I’m not “leaving” anyone behind. If I go with Bubba, especially without telling the girls, I’m the one doing the leaving. And if I don’t come back for some reason, it’s my fault. I have abandoned them. And if there is anything I have ever been more frightened of in my life, I can’t name it. I cannot abide the thought that I might be responsible for abandoning someone who needs me. Period.
Clearly, I have more work to do here. And, fortunately or unfortunately, I think the first step is to pack my stuff, get on that airplane and head out with Bubba, if only to prove to myself that my fears are mere clouds of black smoke. There is some small kernel inside that truly believes everything will be fine and I will arrive home well before the girls, relaxed and happy to have had this time with my husband. ‘Scuse me while I go nurture that seed…
I for one am glad you are packing your bags to go with Bubba. The girls will be fine. 🙂
"There is some small kernel inside that truly believes everything will be fine and I will arrive home well before the girls, relaxed and happy to have had this time with my husband. 'Scuse me while I go nurture that seed…"
What a great ending! I imagine a lot of us have these same fears. I continue to worry about leaving my girls motherless, despite the fact that they're in college. When I had surgery, that was my biggest fear, that I wouldn't wake up!
I guess what helps me when I'm freaking out is to realize I have no control over others, so I might as well quit fretting!
Pack those bags and enjoy your special time with your husband!
How ironic. I was just discussing my abandonment issues with my best friend! The first few paragraphs of your post are totally ME. How you described getting that sense of strength when you imagine being abandoned. What you tell yourself about how you don't need them anyway. I think that's called self protection 🙂 and I'm a pro at that. The rest of your post was just as moving, but I have to admit I don't worry like that about my kids so much. I don't know why, I just always assume things are going to be ok! Nice blog here. Found you on SheWrites.
Oh my goodness, now I can see why I got you.. I can relate to your post most intensely. I maintain being a parent is the hardest gig EVER. I am letting one fly (as you know) this week, and it's not easy. I think we moms all have different sorts of worries for our kids. For almost forever I worried I was damaging their psyches but then I decided that's part of the job, we do,because we were are not perfect nor are we expected to be… Take it one day at a time is my mantra. Hope to see more of one another here in the blog world.
I, for one, can relate to almost everything you say here. Except the abandonment piece. I can relate to not wanting to be the abandoner (as in the reason why I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for four years), but my issue lies more with the fantasizing of plane crashes and earthquakes. I commend you for facing your fears and choosing to go with your husband. This is a good step toward getting those issues in check. (If only I could take my own advice…)
So glad to hear you're not letting Fear win this time. I hope this trip reveals much magic and healing for both you and Bubba. Looking forward to hearing the outcome.
I understand all this "craziness" more than you think. I'm glad you went and that all had a great time, and I look forward to reading all about it. And next time I'm freaking out about similar things, I'll remember…Kario did it, and I can too.
This won't really have effect, I think so.