Breaking Up is Hard to Do.

My sister Pam warned me that I would get attached. I didn’t believe it would happen to me. On Monday Anne woke with ferocity in her eyes and said she wanted to break up with Will. I listened. It soon became apparent that she wanted to break up that very day, that very hour. I played the role of the supportive mother, letting her daughter make her own decisions, helping her do what she wants to do. I coached her on what to say. But when I stood at the door to watch her go, I cried. Big old tears welled up. Then Anne cried too. She cried all the way to his house, all through the break up and then for the rest of the day. I cried the rest of the day too. And then I cried the next day. And it’s the third day and I’m still crying. I look at Anne and cry. At one point she dropped her head on the keyboard and sobbed. Then I cried too. We loved Will. I can’t say his name without crying.

Shar walked past my house. I told her that I know it’s creepy but I’ve been crying all day because my daughter broke up with her boyfriend. Shar, the mother of five adult children said, “Oh, it’s horrible.” And told me how upset she always used to get. She said it didn’t matter who broke up with who, she always felt terrible, she said the boyfriends/girlfriends had become a part of the family. She couldn’t stand to see them hurting.

Meanwhile Anne still has the flowers Will gave her in a vase, with plans to dry them. She still has all things Will on her bedroom wall…notes, pictures, records. And I keep asking her, “Do you feel relieved?” She always says no.