You are her mom, Esri. I don't think you are being codependent or any other bad thing. You love her. That is something she feels every time she hears from you, whether she responds or not. For me, when I've had to stand up or say something my kids don't like or say no more money or whatever it is and they stop communicating with me for a time...that is alright. They can feel about me however they want. It has nothing to do with me, really. I love them. I do the things I think are right for me, and for them, and that is all I know to do. There was a phrase some time back about being enough. About our situations with our kids being what they are, and about knowing, once we have done the right things by our own lights, that their responses (or lack thereof) are enough.
You love her.
That matters.
How she loves you doesn't really matter.
How you love her is the only thing you have any say in.
I love it that you invited her for lunch. I send cards sometimes, when my kids are in a snit about something. Those kinds of cards that acknowledge that things can be really tough for all of us, but that it will be alright.
I read somewhere that the best thing a mom can do is to tell her child it is going to work out, if she follows her heart.
So it's okay to be sad, Esri. There is nothing easy about loving our kids, sometimes. But that you love her will matter to her, to who she is and to who she thinks she can be and what she thinks she can accomplish, for all of her life.
Here is another thing that I read: That in times of trouble, the child will rebel against the one she feels most comfortable with. The one she feels will love her, no matter what.
Everything changes, all the time. "This too shall pass." When you feel especially badly, teach yourself to honor yourself for the love, and to cherish yourself through the pain. We have some measure of control over our choice of mood. We can aim higher, even if we fall flat on our faces. There was a time when I was so discouraged, so horrified at everything that kept happening, that I truly did not know what to do. So, I began saying, "Yes."
And my life expanded, and the hurtful parts seemed not as all encompassing.
A special little prayer going up for you this morning, Esri.
Cedar
