A letter to my children…

Dear Kharey, Sarah, and Jacob,

I have always prided myself on my parenting skills. You kiddos were very well-behaved; everyone said so. Not only were you respectful to adults, but you were kind to others and to each other. You were close; we all were.

As a single mother, I was always working. You helped in every way possible, from cooking to cleaning to laundry. I saw it as my job to protect you in every way possible. I never allowed you to get hurt by anyone. If there was a bully, I was immediately at your school or calling other parents.

I never wanted you to feel pain like I did as a child. I couldn't let that happen to my babies. I felt my love for you so intensely. Anyone who knew me knew that you all were my whole life. I was overprotective. I did not let you walk anywhere alone, not to school, not the park. I would never let you play unsupervised, not even at 12 or 13. You complained about it because your friends were allowed permission to do so. I secretly judged those parents; they didn't love their children well enough.

Today, I say I have done you a disservice. I parented from a place of fear. I allowed my fear to rule how I raised you. But it gets worse. You see, I never wanted you to feel fear like I had. So, I did whatever I could to prevent that. And so, you never learned to work through problems or how to cope with difficult situations.

I did not equip you. My real job was to prepare you for what life might throw at you. Things began to unravel in your late teens, and I had very rebellious children who made many poor choices. Of course, I blamed myself, but I could not see where I had gone wrong. What happened to my kind, well-behaved children? Who were these people, now calling me horrible names and running away from home?

You are all adults now. I hope you never doubt my love for you, but I wish I could go back and do things as I should have.

To you, my loves, I apologize.

July 16, 2005