On sons and daughters

I spoke to my son a few days ago.  He was stressed about some technology issues he was having at school, and during the course of our conversation, I could hear his stress melt away.  I did nothing to make the situation better.  I only gave him the opportunity to vent.  It made me glad that I was still of use to my son, and as the conversation wound down, I said, so I will talk to you soon, goodbye.  I initiated the end of the conversation with my son.

I spoke to my daughter yesterday.  I texted her in the early afternoon that I needed to hear her voice.  I couldn't get my mind off her, and I just wanted to know she was fine  fill my personal need for a connection with her.  Not being able to reach her actually made me kind of frantic.  I began to have unfound worries.  I began to obsess.  I grew sad.  Finally she called me, and the weight lifted, but I wanted to stay on the phone with her forever.

One might think that I love my daughter more than my son.  But I don't.  I don't him more than her either, but we just have different connections.  I always expected my son to go forth on his own and make his way independent of me... after all, he's a dude.  But being am introvert, he has always needed a little push to get things going.   For that reason, we have always had the kind of relationship where I am at his back... nudging him forward.  On the other hand, while it has always been apparent that my daughter was fiercely independent, we have always had the kind of relationship where I hold onto her with both arms, enjoying every minute she would give me before she would pull away, and try something new that I would never-ever consider doing.

I don't really have a synopsis for this post, just pondering the differences in my relationships with each child that I have spent 90% of my time with for the past decade or so, only to have them grow up and go forth.

That is all.   Any therapists want to weigh in.