blogsfromtheedge

I wrote this in February of 2003 but I received an email today with a similar theme (young teenage daughters) and I remembered it.  Seeing as we are about one month out from my daughter’s graduation from college, I thought it might be a good time to share this.  For those of you with girls this age, hang in there, it gets much BETTER!  Namaste.

The Future Woman in My Daughter

Nancy Deming-May

February 2003

I had an epiphany yesterday.

I guess like most epiphanies, it didn’t come in a zen-like setting surrounded by still waters and rustling leaves.  It was in a bowling alley, at a formica table, with styrofoam cups of soda and baskets of french-fries.  I was sitting with my 13 year old daughter and her two friends, Maria and Joanna—in their hip hugging jeans and snug tee shirts—each girl wearing the other’s clothes—braces, hair clips and make-up.  One of the girl’s was reminded of something funny that her grandmother always did and then Lauren started telling stories about her Grammy—my mother.  How Grammy never hears you the first time and is always saying, “What’s that?” How she will stare at your food and say, “Are you going to give me a bite of that?”  After every meal, she’ll sit back and hold her belly and say, “I am sooooo full” and then she’ll lean forward and want to try whatever you have on your plate or ask “Are you going to eat that?”

We started going back and forth imitating her many funny nuances.  Lauren had her friends and me in stitches.  I thought at one point of correcting her imitation because she didn’t have it quite right—the imitation of my mother, but I caught myself and thought, this is HER story and she’s doing fine.

I suddenly had a glimpse, not just into the future but into now, of the woman she is becoming.  Of the funny, independent person she is.  Every mother knows the worries about the attitudes, the slammed doors, the secrecy, the defiance, but most of all the distance.

Somehow, surrounded by crashing ten pins, we connected through laughter and I knew, at least for a moment, that everything would be okay.  And one day, our connection will be much more complete and our laughter much more frequent.