I feel too young to have a Daughter who has left home. It has happened before but for completely different reasons. When my eldest, Sharnai, turned 16, we moved to Norway. Sharnai was coming with us but decided to move in with her dad in Birmingham instead. We spent 18 months living apart but saw each other every couple of months, then when I returned to England for good she moved back in with us.
But this is different. Sharnai at the grand age of 19 has moved into a house with boyfriend Reiss and dog Rocky. She’s happy… I think, and to my surprise, quite domesticated. Its a strange feeling no longer having the responsibility of making sure she’s eating enough fruit and drinking plenty of fluids, or knowing that after a night out she’s having an alcohol fuelled sleep, safe in her own bed. But because I can no longer physically check her safety daily, I’ve taken to texting her at least once a day, usually in the evening.
“you ok bab?”
“What you been up to today?”
“Right, Im sending out a search party?”
Still no answer.
“Mom, I was having a nap!!”.
“Oh, as long as you’re safe”.
This has become an evening ritual and thankfully up until now, hasn’t involved a real search party.
There are some positives of no longer having Sharnai living with us. It means less people when trying to figure out who’s to blame for something that has occurred at home. Yesterday is a perfect example of this and up until Sharnai’s departure there would have been four suspects for this particular act. Paul (Husband – also known as Pablo), Ben (Son), Sharnai (Daughter) and Reiss (Sharnai’s boyfriend who I think its fair to say, was sort of living with us).
Thankfully on this particular day there was only two; Paul and Ben.