He sat in his truck, both hands on the steering wheel, watching her in the rearview mirror walking away to her new life.

“Are you still holding on?” She asked. When she had no answer, she tentatively looked over her shoulder and saw that he was not holding on. He was watching her, one hand on his hip, the other wiping something out of his eye. She was terrified then immediately thrilled. “Daddy! Look at me!” She shrieked, “No training wheels!” She looked back again and saw him shrinking away in the distance.

Back in his truck, he took in a shuddering breath and dabbed a couple of tears from his eyes. He put the truck in gear, took one last look at his grown-up daughter, and began the one-thousand mile journey back to his life—a life he built around her that carried her to this major moment in her young life.

That will be the finale of my friend’s weekend. His daughter will be attending graduate school at a far-away college.

She had hinted at flying far away for over half her life. With every passing year she showed, at times defiantly, her independence. With every passing year, she ventured farther from the nest, until now.

Milestones . . .

Recently, my daughter’s feelings were hurt. They were hurt to the point that she didn’t want to return to the gathering of fellow children for fear of being rejected. I listened, I held her, I wiped up her tears and made her feel better about it.

What I didn’t tell her is that the fear of rejection never goes away.

My friend’s daughter has opened the prologue to where true life happens. Whatever life experiences she has had will be nothing when compared to the road ahead. This is where she will suffer rejection. She will have her heart broken, she will experience stress on a level that will be traumatizing, things going wrong, plans shattered, and she will have to figure out ways to deal with them, on her own.

Life, the best life, is not an easy experience. The lessons must be harsh, the losses must be permanent, the scars must be earned.

My heart broke the first time my little girl’s feelings were hurt. Every time she is hurt, I hurt with her. The heartbreak, the happiness, the bittersweet range of emotions my friend is going through is something I can only imagine.

In less than one short decade, I’ll be the guy in the truck staring into the rearview mirror.

John F. Kennedy once said, “To have a child is to give fate a hostage.”

(I have paused in my writing…I always pause when I think about that quote)

We protect our children as best we can, but I think that might be because we’re also protecting ourselves. How badly do we want to relive all those moments in our youth? The problem is, the things that make our lives the best lives, never let up. We have no choice but to feel their pain with them. Part of ourselves lives in our children, hence their pain can only become ours as well.

Children inflict suffering and damage upon their parents. Sometimes intentionally, most of time, it happens simply by living and learning.

Full circle happens when the child realizes it.

She turned around one last time and watched her dad in his truck shrinking in the distance before he turned a corner and disappeared.

“No training wheels…” she murmured.