She's Still My Child

My oldest child will be 34 on her birthday, but despite her age she’s still my child. You know, I am about as broke down as a man can get, both physically and mentally. There’s not much I can do for her or any of my kids for that matter. I have no wealth, I own no property, in fact I’m doing good to feed my daughter’s dog. But I do what I can because she is my child. 

My oldest has gone through hell for the past two years for love. Through government red tape, a pandemic, a quarantine, and travel lockdown. She has not seen her fiancé in any of that time. Others would have just given up, including me. But she’s stuck to her guns and is literally willing her upcoming wedding to happen. Looking at her I can humbly say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
 
The last few months have taken a costly toll on me. Physically I am as spent as I was during my first heart attack and surgery. Only this time it was a different surgery to put me in my current situation. But my astrological sign says I love passionately and deeply, which may attribute to some of the stupid I’ve done most of my life. 
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But we do what we do for our spouses and our children, don’t we? My kids are way smarter than me. They have established lives, homes of their own, lives outside my watch. I used to find the exclusion a bit shameful. A subtle reminder of my blaring shortcomings. But in my weakness, there’s still a bit of fight left in me. So instead of being a complete blueprint of what not to be. Maybe I helped lay a foundation, for how they should live, how to love, and how thrive.