Tonight I celebrate my daughter’s birth 23 years ago. I have written about her many times in the two and a half years since I first started writing this blog, including a post on her 21st birthday two years ago. I am so proud of her, not only who she is becoming but of how she carries herself, her passionate activism, her thoughtful way of speaking. She’s also an excellent writer; I have so appreciated the ways she’s stepped in as a regular contributor to this blog. I am grateful for the roles she plays in my life; she continues our family legacy of strong mother-daughter relationships. My mother had it with her mother, I had it with my mother and now I have it with my daughter.
I had to smile recently when I was listening to a colleague talk about her relationship with her currently teenaged child. “I had to get it through his head that I am not his friend. I am his parent.” She stated emphatically. I remember that phase. It doesn’t feel like it was all that long ago. Michal and I are perhaps still in that phase, though gradually transitioning out of it. I believe there does come a time when parents become friends with their children; I will be friends with both of my children. We will not be peers of course, but as they both mature they will rely less and less on my sage advice (and I will offer it less and less) and lean more on their own knowledge, understandings, and experience. This is as it should be, and while I’m in no particular hurry to relinquish my role as the oracle and knower of all mysteries, as my daughter continues to mature and deepen her own wisdom she will no longer need it to the same degree as she does today.
Tonight my daughter the young adult is out enjoying birthday festivities with her friends. It wasn’t too many years ago that I was the one taking her to dinner with a few of her friends or hosting a sleepover with a half dozen or more young girls running around in my basement all those years ago. We’ve been separated over the last few birthdays with her living 2800 miles away and I haven’t spoken to her to wish her a happy birthday. That too is part of the evolution from mother and child, through mother and unrecognizable creature known as hormonal, rebellious teenager, to mother and maturing, increasingly-responsible young adult. I look forward to the continuing growth and development of our relationship.
I am grateful for the solid connection I share with my daughter. While we’ve had our share of struggles with one another–the periodic disagreements and out and out fights–we also share a deep and abiding love for one another and a strong emotional connection. Not to mention that sometimes we are downright silly and enjoy some holding-our-sides with tears-streaming-down-our-faces laughter. A good healthy dose of uproarious laughter is always a good thing. I look forward to celebrating many, many more birthdays with my daughter, but for now I simply want to wish her a wonderful celebration on this day. Happy birthday, sweet pea.
