A for Advocate

Complacent or accepting, I suppose one can look at it through either lens.  Without realizing I am even doing it, I either prompt or initiate for her.  It has become our own unique language I suppose.  She comes to me, gives me the penetrating look and then I proceed to ask her the leading questions–what’s up, what do you need, what is wrong.  Afterwards I kick myself for missing yet another chance for her to do what we have worked so long on—what she calls the “A-word”.

A for Advocate.

She knows it is her primary goal.  I know it is too.   And yet…… And yet, I still hate to see that struggle, or that pause, or that awkward blip in her communication.

She is a master at avoiding the A-word, or even more I am a master at saving her.  Just yesterday I got caught in the trap—she came to me with wide eyes and a panicked look.  I immediately asked what was wrong and she blurted out she had left her phone in her provider’s car.  Afterwards, I wonder what may have happened had I not read her face and body language, how long would she have gone without telling me.  Other times she will just be within my proximity until I finally say something to her.  Rarely, if ever, will she say “hey mom, …..”.

A for Advocate.

And I am still working on S…. for Shut-My-Mouth-and-Let-Her-Do-It.

 

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