My daughter turned 50 at the end of last year. She is an executive in a school district that provides vocational and technical education to secondary students and post-secondary adults. She has been married 25 years and has two children. All this to say is that she is an independent, professional adult who has a successful career and a wonderful personal life.
Upon becoming a wife and mother many years ago, she “moved on.” Prior to that time, we had a very close relationship. But with marriage came other obligations and interests. Seemingly, she no longer needed her mom. Honestly, I felt somewhat abandoned, having been her primary source of interaction at home for many years. I graciously bowed out as she spent more time with her husband’s family than with me and my extended family. I never wanted to be “that mother” – the one who inserts herself into her children’s lives without being invited.
Don’t get me wrong. I never doubted that she loved me. We managed to spend some time together during holidays. She and I would have a shopping day in both spring and fall – a day we would take off work and spend together. I cherished those few and far between times when I had her to myself for a couple of hours.
Recently, she confided that she was having some health issues. She called when the doctor told her what was going on and that she would need surgery. She said she just needed to hear her momma’s voice. While I knew it was scary, I also knew she would be fine. I just knew.
We talked every day for the next two weeks prior to the actual surgery. I met her and her husband at the hospital early the day of the surgery and spent the day with them. For the following two weeks, I was with her every day. I stayed while her husband was at work, cleaned the house, helped with the dogs, made dinners, and quietly sat as she slept. I brought her water and ice packs, administered her medicine, and rubbed her feet. As she regained strength I walked with her around the house.
In short, I was once again, caring for my little girl. My beautiful, grown up daughter.
What a joy to be able to spend this time with her. Even though she was not feeling well at first, as she improved we had plenty of time to talk. We reconnected. We laughed. We cried. We watched mindless television and fantasy movies.
Both of us expressed our gratitude at our ability to share in this experience. As she returns to work I imagine life will return to normal – her with her responsibilities and obligations and me with my life. Yet, my heart will be fuller knowing that when my daughter is in need, she once again becomes mommy’s girl.
Silver Sage Sisters 