A Driving Daughter … and a Mom Trying to Let Go

Courtesy of nittanyquillonline.com

As I was finishing my last post, my oldest daughter stopped by, saw the subject matter on my laptop and once again kidded me about being a helicopter mom.

And then we both laughed over an incident that she will forever remember.

K only had her license a few days, having successfully mastered the challenge of parallel parking which kept eluding her. I should point out, that she took the test in the car she would be driving, which was a large SUV. Not an easy task.

It was summer and she was so excited about passing her test.  She was to meet a school group at the local Starbucks later that night to start work on a fundraising project.  K couldn’t wait to drive herself and not rely on someone else.

Out Starbucks is only about 5 minutes from our home, but it’s near a very busy intersection and one where I have witnessed more than my share of accidents.

“K, please, make SURE you text me when you get to Starbucks to let me know you got there.”

“No prob, Mom.”

“Don’t forget….,” I yelled as the door closed behind her.

I watched her drive away and I wondered if she would be safe. Her first trip out. I was so not ready for this. And then I waited for the text.

And waited.

And waited.

No text.

Not wanting to be overbearing, but starting to get worried, I texted her.

No response.

I texted her again.
Nothing.

So, I called.

It went RIGHT to voicemail.

Now I am just thinking the very worst.

Major multi-car accident. Nasty circumstances. Not pretty.

I called again. Right to voicemail.

But I swore that one that I would NOT do was to drive to Starbucks and humiliate her.  

I would do the next best thing – while relieving my worry.

I called Starbucks.

The manager answered and was quite pleasant. I simply explained that I was looking for my daughter who would probably be with a group of about 10 people and would he terribly mind if he would ask for her and have her put her on the phone (I was trying to spare her the embarrassment of calling me from the table, should she NOT be in the above mentioned horrific accident).

He told me that it would be no trouble at all (thank you, thank you, Starbucks!).

It was silent for a few moments, and then to my relief, I heard my daughter’s voice.

She said later that her high school advisor thought it was “way cool” that her mom cared enough to  check up on a new driver but she said she could have crawled under the table when the manager walked up and asked for her BY NAME and told her she had a phone call.

As for me, I’ve loosened up quite a bit since her first big solo drive out.

But I don’t think I will ever stop worrying about her. I think that’s just part of my job as a mom.  

And K, she does remember to text me now. But only when we agree she needs to.