You know, for an atheist, I do find myself in church an awful lot.
Of course, a lot of this has to do with being married to a card-carrying, uniform-wearing, soldier in the Salvation Army. It means that despite my best intentions to avoid the Sunday morning services and their associated platitudes and gratitudes, every now and then I am called upon to fulfill my husbandly duties, swallow my skepticism and lend some emotional support to Tina, my wife at the Worship Hall.
Of course, a lot of this has to do with being married to a card-carrying, uniform-wearing, soldier in the Salvation Army. It means that despite my best intentions to avoid the Sunday morning services and their associated platitudes and gratitudes, every now and then I am called upon to fulfill my husbandly duties, swallow my skepticism and lend some emotional support to Tina, my wife at the Worship Hall.
Today was one of those times, and the reason the emotional support was needed? Well, that had rather a lot to do with a certain eighteen-year-old.
Central Perks
The teen in question is Sarah, my step-daughter. A lovely young lady and the absolute centre of Tina’s entire existence.
Central Perks
The teen in question is Sarah, my step-daughter. A lovely young lady and the absolute centre of Tina’s entire existence.
It’s tempting to think of that place belonging to myself, being the husband of the piece. After all, Tina is arguably the most important person in my entire life, therefore surely the reverse must be true… Mustn’t it? Well no, in all actuality it really, really mustn’t.
When it comes to Sarah it’s not even all that close. Having had both ladies in my life for the last eight years, and having lived through the choice of Saturday night film being taken away from me until I’m ganged up on to watch some saccharine sweet romantic comedy, teen ‘drama’, or (gulp) endless re-run of boy-wizard shenanigans, I’ve learned to make my peace with that.
All Change
Sarah is, after all, Tina’s little girl, her baby, the person she carried in her womb for nine months, and no matter how old she gets, that is the basis for a relationship that will remain forever unbreakable despite the changes that life throws at us.
Changes, for instance, such as this weekend lobbed our way.
It’s the circle of life, possibly the wheel of fortune as well, but regardless, Sarah is growing up. Yesterday represented one of the landmarks in this relentless progression as, at the tender age of eighteen and a bit, she spent the last day with her mum before leaving for London, St Georges University, and three years training to be a paramedic.
Letting It All Out
We spent this fateful day at Cheshire Oaks, a designer outlet complex. It’s a bit of drive to get there, taking a good hour and a half on the motorway, but as it’s nearer to where Sarah was living with her dad, and we were taking some very kindly donated bedding (thanks Andrew & Amy), including a double duvet and set of pillows, it made more sense than either party taking the train.
It was a nice day, nothing too strenuous. A bite of lunch in an American style diner and a mosey around the shops to see exactly how many things we couldn’t afford to buy (designer apparently being code for double the price and add a zero) being about the strength of it. The ladies (including Gwen, Tina’s mum) spent the time together in emotionally charged conversation; talking about university life, finances, the importance of Skype and Whatsapp contact, and the need for as many regular visits as was (super)humanly possible.
Long Distance Learning
Eventually, after one final coffee in a caffeine-rich day, it was time for prolonged and tear-stained goodbyes, and a twenty-minute quest to find the car (Thank you, Tina). We then headed back down the motorway and home. Sarah taking a similar but shorter journey back to her dad’s to pack and do one final night shift at the popular third rate high street burger Mcmerchant she has now quit working at, before heading off to the big city and the unwashed, debt-ridden, alcohol-soaked life of a ‘bloody student’.
Hence the reason for this morning’s slightly reluctant outbreak of religion. The desire to stick by the Mrs and be at hand while the emotions of this transition remain raw. It’s not actually all that huge a change when looked at in the cold, passionless, light of day. Sarah has been living with her dad full time since Tina and he parted company and, although she visits regularly, we have no bedroom that is suddenly empty, no spare place at the dinner table. The hour and a half journey to visit her has grown longer, that is true, and the chances to make it might be a little rarer but they will still be seized upon, hopefully by both parties when studies allow.
Mummy's Girl
But the distance is there. The fact that Sarah will be living on her own, an independent young lady in the biggest city in the country is there. The circle of life is turning, and a new phase in the ladies relationship is burgeoning. Sarah no longer needs her nose blowing and her scuffed knees plastered but she will need someone to talk to. She will need a place to go, a home to visit, and she will, at some point in the not too distant future, need her mum, as every girl does, despite being all grown up; and when she does, then her mum will be there for her, ready to drop absolutely everything and gather up her daughter in both arms.
When it comes to Sarah it’s not even all that close. Having had both ladies in my life for the last eight years, and having lived through the choice of Saturday night film being taken away from me until I’m ganged up on to watch some saccharine sweet romantic comedy, teen ‘drama’, or (gulp) endless re-run of boy-wizard shenanigans, I’ve learned to make my peace with that.
All Change
Sarah is, after all, Tina’s little girl, her baby, the person she carried in her womb for nine months, and no matter how old she gets, that is the basis for a relationship that will remain forever unbreakable despite the changes that life throws at us.
Changes, for instance, such as this weekend lobbed our way.
It’s the circle of life, possibly the wheel of fortune as well, but regardless, Sarah is growing up. Yesterday represented one of the landmarks in this relentless progression as, at the tender age of eighteen and a bit, she spent the last day with her mum before leaving for London, St Georges University, and three years training to be a paramedic.
Letting It All Out
We spent this fateful day at Cheshire Oaks, a designer outlet complex. It’s a bit of drive to get there, taking a good hour and a half on the motorway, but as it’s nearer to where Sarah was living with her dad, and we were taking some very kindly donated bedding (thanks Andrew & Amy), including a double duvet and set of pillows, it made more sense than either party taking the train.
It was a nice day, nothing too strenuous. A bite of lunch in an American style diner and a mosey around the shops to see exactly how many things we couldn’t afford to buy (designer apparently being code for double the price and add a zero) being about the strength of it. The ladies (including Gwen, Tina’s mum) spent the time together in emotionally charged conversation; talking about university life, finances, the importance of Skype and Whatsapp contact, and the need for as many regular visits as was (super)humanly possible.
Long Distance Learning
Eventually, after one final coffee in a caffeine-rich day, it was time for prolonged and tear-stained goodbyes, and a twenty-minute quest to find the car (Thank you, Tina). We then headed back down the motorway and home. Sarah taking a similar but shorter journey back to her dad’s to pack and do one final night shift at the popular third rate high street burger Mcmerchant she has now quit working at, before heading off to the big city and the unwashed, debt-ridden, alcohol-soaked life of a ‘bloody student’.
Hence the reason for this morning’s slightly reluctant outbreak of religion. The desire to stick by the Mrs and be at hand while the emotions of this transition remain raw. It’s not actually all that huge a change when looked at in the cold, passionless, light of day. Sarah has been living with her dad full time since Tina and he parted company and, although she visits regularly, we have no bedroom that is suddenly empty, no spare place at the dinner table. The hour and a half journey to visit her has grown longer, that is true, and the chances to make it might be a little rarer but they will still be seized upon, hopefully by both parties when studies allow.
Mummy's Girl
But the distance is there. The fact that Sarah will be living on her own, an independent young lady in the biggest city in the country is there. The circle of life is turning, and a new phase in the ladies relationship is burgeoning. Sarah no longer needs her nose blowing and her scuffed knees plastered but she will need someone to talk to. She will need a place to go, a home to visit, and she will, at some point in the not too distant future, need her mum, as every girl does, despite being all grown up; and when she does, then her mum will be there for her, ready to drop absolutely everything and gather up her daughter in both arms.
Sarah might be entering the journey to independence, she might very nearly a fully fledged adult, but whatever the future holds, no matter how self-sufficient and responsible she becomes, she will always be Tina’s little girl.
Until next time...
Until next time...
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