My Daughter Is Gone
Ginny and Jae, prom 2008
I’ve been prying staples from my teenager’s wall this week, pulling down her collage of images from magazines. Scraping candle wax off her nightstand. Emptying “her” bathroom drawer of lotions and eyeliner pencils. Sorting the tangled necklaces, stray playing cards, and other detritus in her room into logical piles and then packing them in cardboard boxes. Washing and folding the few clothes she left behind. Sewing the torn seams in her lime green cotton skirt and repairing the loose buttons on her new black sweater.
Having something to do has helped, because I’ve been in a fog of grief.
On July 28, I was sitting in front of my computer in the new office building where my work group had moved. The phone rang, and it was my 18-year-old, Ginny, asking me if I could take the call away from my desk. I was busy, so I told her to just spill it. And she did.
She was moving out. Right then. With only her clothes, her computer, her guitar, some books and jewelry, and her tall dresser.
She was moving to Georgia to live with her 21-year-old lover, Jae. They sprang the move on me like this because Ginny was afraid I would not let her take her stuff and also because I “can be intimidating.”
She is walking away from tens of thousands in college scholarships here in the Memphis area. She left without even having a driver’s license yet. With stitches still in her gums from wisdom teeth surgery. Without her ADD medication. Without any money.
I didn’t get to hug her goodbye.
There wasn’t a fight that pushed her toward the door. There was never a lack of love and acceptance for the fact she’s gay (Jae is a girl and has been a welcome guest in our home). The letter Ginny left behind said that I had laid out a path for her that she wasn’t willing to follow. That path was a college major she chose, at a private school she agreed was her best option, paired with our state’s lottery scholarship. I had promised to buy her plane tickets to Georgia at least once a month to visit her girlfriend as long as her grades remained good enough to keep her scholarships. I would help with gas money if she wanted to drive over on other weekends.
It wasn’t enough.
We continued to treat her like a child and would not let her grow up, her letter said. That’s the part that made me sigh. She was referring to how she graduated from high school by the skin of her teeth, and only then because the family spent an exhausting year putting pressure on her to study. She worked hard — eventually — and a few weeks ago told me she was resentful I had not appreciated her efforts more. That’s the part that made my jaw drop and my own anger rise.
In her words, I could hear Jae’s coaching. Because Ginny knows what her girlfriend does not:
- With help from her father, we paid $85/week for twice-weekly private art lessons for a year so she could pursue her passion and beef up her portfolio for college.
- We spent $35/hour we could ill afford on algebra tutoring sessions two or three times per week. I took off work when needed to be sure she got there.
- Her stepfather took her to free before-school algebra tutoring five days a week (including when he was off work on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays), rising at 5:30 a.m. to make sure she was there by 6 a.m. Those were the tutoring sessions we found out she was skipping to go sit in the school library or run out to Starbucks every day — tutoring sessions that would have earned her a point added to her grades each day simply for attending and asking a question. I stopped the skipping by threatening to attend with her and checking her school records daily.
- She skipped out of her first period class many times, earning groundings the two times we found out. The second time, we gave her four major chores to do at home and told her the grounding would be over when she finished the work. (It could have been done in two weeks but she dragged it out for much longer.) We even helped with some of the hardest work.
- She got to go to her senior prom, in the $400 dress she was dying to have, even though it was during one of those grounding periods.
- We celebrated her graduation with her girlfriend coming over, us all eating out, and an expensive necklace Ginny had asked for a few months before. (I would have done more, but money was tight and we could charge the necklace at Kay’s.) We told her over and over how proud we were that she’d had finally dug down inside herself and found the drive and determination to study subjects she hated in order to meet the goal of graduation. I was so PROUD of her. She smiled and hugged us back, shrugging over the necklace. She never wore it except for that night. She wanted a $2,000 new laptop but knew we couldn’t get it right then.
- She was going to get primary use of one of our cars. It’s the car my husband traded in his beloved convertible for because he thought it would be a safer choice for our Ginny. I’m still driving a 2000 car; it runs fine.
- We’ve let her sleep late and be a little lazy this summer because it was such a hard senior year for her and all of us. We’ve made her look for a job but not pushed her very hard.
- We’ve paid for unlimited calls, text messaging, and web access on the new cell phone she got at Christmas so she can talk all she wants to Jae.
- We’ve sat through many a family gathering or meal while she texted Jae or kept the phone glued to her ear.
- We bought her new glasses, the expensive frames she wanted.
- I took her shopping for new clothes for her birthday. Two day of shopping, even though I was exhausted from my own work. It felt good to be at a point in my life where I could finally afford to get a few luxuries for my children. I buy my clothes at Wal-Mart. Hers came from Dillard’s.
She’s right there’s been a lack of respect and gratitude here, but it hasn’t been on our part. I’m angry at her, but there’s nothing you can’t forgive your child, especially when you know she’s immature and naive, in love and in lust, addled by the nagging voice of her selfish lover buzzing in her ear, her own actions driven by her heart instead of her head.
I’m just hollowed out with sorrow. I’m braced for how the real world is going to treat her, for all the bruises she’s going to get with vulnerabilities she doesn’t even know she has.
We aren’t going to help her with money unless it’s an emergency. We’re going to give her the rest of her belongings, of course, as long as she makes advance arrangements to pick them up. I won’t store her things here indefinitely because that’s just enabling her to play adult without responsibilities, and also because it knifes me in the chest every time I see something of hers.
And we’re going to pay for her health insurance premiums as long as our health insurance lets us (at least another year, longer if she does go to school somewhere full time). She is, and always will be, my daughter. I sent her a list of contact information and begged her to pass it to Jae, just in case of emergency.
Ginny eventually gave me an address, after much prompting, but I don’t think it’s accurate. I did a reverse directory look-up on it and it belongs to someone I don’t know. I suspect it’s for one of Jae’s friends or relatives. The address I found online for Jae is different and jibes better with my memory of the street name Ginny once mentioned. But I’ll use the address she gave.
So right now, I don’t know exactly where she is, who she’s with, what her real plans are, or if she’s safe and well cared for. And I can barely breathe.
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14 comments
Carolyn, I can’t even imagine all the things you must be feeling. My daughter is 11 (and her name is Carolyn!) and the thought of any of this in a few years is terrifying. I think that you can at least know that you did all you could to give her the opportunity and the support she needed.
I really admire you for letting her make her own choices and still supporting her where you can without endorsing those choices. You are really smart with that. I have several friends who didn’t speak to their parents for YEARS and made progressively worse choices just to prove that they were independent. Be there for her, but make sure she understands that the consequences of her actions are the direct result of HER choices.
Hang in there. You are a great mom!
Carolyn, don’t ever doubt your abilities as a mom. Reading this entry made me want to sit Ginny down and give her a good talking to. I wish I had the college scholarship opportunities that she walked away from.
I wish I could tell her that though she loves Jae, relationships don’t always last, but your education does.
Also, as a person who made long distance relationships work all through college, they can be awesome - you have time to study, see friends, be involved in school and your community, and you don’t have to worry about dating.
We should get together for coffee or a beer sometime soon, if you’re into it. You sound like you need a break.
- Kerry / @skeletonkey from Twitter
I’ve been there with my oldest son - there is no part of parenting than what you are going through now. Hugs.
Judy Cs last blog post..The Peppermint Phone Is Ringing
Hey, Buffi,
Thanks for commenting and your kind observations. It helps to hear from other parents, as I’m questioning my own decisions now. Should I have been more lenient? Was I too easy on her? What should I have done differently? It’s so easy to second-guess yourself.
I also have a 10-year-old, soon to be 11. She’s hurt and annoyed that her sister left like this. And I wonder what kind of example Ginny has set for her, so that’s another worry I’ll have when she gets into *her* teens.
I’ll be here if she come back. Although I don’t think it’s likely.
Hey, Judy,
Thanks — it is hard. I feel like I’m watching her walk off a cliff. I hope your oldest son got his act together, too.
Hi, Kerry,
Getting together sounds nice. I’ll DM you via Twitter. Thanks! :o)
Goodness!!! My heart aches for you and your younger daughter. I have a feeling, she’ll be the very responsible one due to her very erratic sister.
I can’t imagine the worry and pain you are going through. The very least she could do would give you correct contact information NOT for you to contact her but in case something happened to you and your family.
I am so sorry!
I’m not a parent, but I can’t imagine your hurt.. and I understand the need to vent it all on your blog because you just HAVE-TO-TELL-SOMEONE! I’ve been tempted to go that route lately with recent hurts, but my blog just won’t hold up to it. I have to find a way to make it funny, and I’m just not that clever!
Carolyn, perhaps it’s time to plug up Mark Twain’s proverbial knothole. Let her go, but never stop caring. Be there when she come’s around, but don’t pursue. Lighthouses didn’t go out there and push the ships away from the rocks at their own peril - their job was to stand as tall as possible and throw out a constant beacon to guide the ships in safely - but it remained the ship’s responsibility to act on that.
Silly analogy from a non-parent. But I hope it helps.
Oh, I don’t even know what to say to you, except that I am certainly thinking about you and the whole situation. Both you and your Ginny’s sake, I hope she is safe and protected. I hope that her and Jae can make a go at it together and be strong for each other - and you, somehow, can get some sleep at night - sometime in the next five years.
Chriss last blog post..Help my wife… and me!
Hey, RhodesTer,
Actually, the silly analogy did help. I know I’m hemorrhaging emotions this week; I can’t seem to help myself. It feels like a major victory just to keep going.
She and I had a nice telephone conversation today where she caught me up on what’s happening in her life now, what she’s doing, and when she hopes to see us again. She sounds happy, foolish, naive, and in love. I worry about the power she’s giving her girlfriend over her — the girlfriend owns the house, the vehicles, and Ginny’s heart. I’d hug my girl and take her shopping for new curtains and the papasan chair she wants if I didn’t want to plant my foot so far up her ass.
So I guess you could say my reaction is mixed. Love her to death. Still worried about her today, but I’m more resigned to letting her make her own mistakes. She’s heard all my arguments and rejected them. So I’ll just be here, whether she comes back asking for help or saying, “Hey, I made it.” :o)
I’m trying to think, “Lighthouse. Lighthouse. Lighthouse.”
Hey, Chris,
Thanks so much just for showing up. Feels like a quick hug to get a note from a friend. My girl finally called me today, and we talked for a while. I told her again that we were angry and hurt but that we loved her and hope that everything works out for her. We decided what to do with most of her furniture, talked about holiday visits and insurance, and I mommied her about a doctor’s visit she’s ignoring. She’s filling out college apps and has applied for several jobs too. I’m hopeful she’ll become the adult she wants to be. I just hate for it to happen this way.
For me, I’m doing some nice things for myself too. Volunteering a bit. Starting a local book club. Continuing on my diet. Spending time with my younger daughter. Trying (so HARD trying) to bite my tongue now that I’m just repeating myself to no avail with my oldest girl.
I’m going to be drinking lots of calming chamomile tea, I think. And looking at old baby pictures!
I know the pain you are going through, because I am going through it all myself. I sit here sometimes, just staring out into space. My DH asks me “what’s wrong?” and I cannot tell him the pain I feel.
My daughter left home, moved out of state to live with and married an Air Force man. I found out she was married on her myspace and my mother told me. How cruel is that?
I do not know her address or phone number, nor does she have mine– only myspace and email.
My heart is broken into a million pieces, with only a few reserved for my DH. I feel numb!
How can our kids be so cruel? I gave her everything! I was a single mother (her father never wanted her!) and sacrificed alot of myself and my resources, just to give her a great childhood! I married for the first time at 48 and my DH was not too thrilled because he did not want to move where I owned a home; I had my 45 yo brother living with me along with my then-19 yo daughter, and my brother’s 2 kids on the weekends and every other Wednesday. My DH had to put up with alot. Then I quit my 26-yr career to be a full-time wife and my daughter HATED that, because I could not buy her the things she had become accustomed to! I bought Ambercrombie and Fitch and Nike and Forever 21 clothes for her, and I wore Walmart and Kmart– sometimes Fashion Bug! My clothes were outdated and old, compared to hers– my husband saw this and be bought me a brand new wardrobe in the first months we were married! I used the little child support we got from her real father, to finance her life! I even bought her a second-hand car. When I was in the hospital having a hysterectomy, my new husband bought her a brand new 2006 Nissan Sentra. She promptly went out and scarred it! Then when she moved out the first time, she threw it back in our faces and it was re-poed! My husband financed her summer school to become a pre-school teacher and bought her books. She never paid us back and she promised to! She moved out a second time and her car was stolen (one she bought on her own!) and my husband helped her get into a new car (which she is still driving to this day!) My husband and I were having difficulties and she said she was “worried about me” I threatened to “off” myself. So what did she do? She told me she had “found something really bad about my husband’s past on the Internet and would get me a copy of it but that I “had to leave him, because she was afraid he would hurt me.” She took me (with what I could carry and I had her take my full-blooded boxer puppy to a good home, and she drove me to San Diego and dumped me on my friend’s doorstep and left! According to my husband, she went into our old home and marred our furniture and my LG washer and dryer and stole his computer, with the help of her friends. My friend in San Diego she took me to said “You cant stay here (I did not take my truck with me) and she put me with some ex-cons who ‘helped me move the rest of my stuff’ and ‘helped themselves’ to most of it! My husband came and took me back and by then, our home was lost to foreclosure and we were homeless! The truck I was driving was unpaid for, unregistered and uninsured! Ok then my husband was afraid, because our daughter had made some heinous accusations against him, so he was afraid he would be arrested! So we stayed in hiding (hence my daughter does not have my address/phone number nor does my family, because they believed her! She had a restraining order done against my DH for domestic violence! He NEVER laid a hand on her and never would!
So, my DH hates my daughter for what she has done. My daughter has never apologized or owned up to what she has done. My daughter hates my DH because she knows what she has done and has convinced my family that she is the victim here, not me and my DH! My family hates my DH…
So I am familyless, my daughter is not speaking to me. (my family consists of my brother who lived with us and spread heinous stories about our lifestyle) and my 80 yo mother.
I still love her and miss her. I remember her babyhood and look at her pics and cry. I even sent her some on her myspace with our pics together. I dont know if I will hear from her. She did not tell me when she got married. I send her mother and daughter poems. I dont know what to say anymore… My heart is broken!
Gorillabuns, I meant to respond sooner — thanks for commenting on my weepy “my daughter is gone” post. :o/ I’m still sad, but I feel more centered. I’ll be here if she needs me.
Truly NEEDS me — not just when she wants to tap a familiar resource the first time her newly adult life becomes inconvenient. As angry as I’ve been with her, I hope she’s happy and safe and learning about being independent in a way that’s not too painful.
Arrgh — I could get angsty about my oldest girl and talk for hours!
Thanks for writing — Carolyn
Deborah,
That is an *epic* level of pain and betrayal. I’m so sorry. You have my warmest wishes and hugs. ~ Carolyn
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