My daughter went to New York City this week. It was a birthday gift from my mother. She decided that it will be a new tradition. When the grand kids turn double digits they can pick a place to go in the US and she chose New York City. My daughter was so excited. She packed her bag and we got everything ready. I was going through the check list with her, "Do you have this? and this? and this?" She shrugged me off. "Yes, MOM, I have everything." I slid a new toothbrush into her bag. "Remember to stay with Grammy and don't talk to strangers and be careful crossing the road because people in New York City can drive crazy." She rolled her eyes at me. "You're worried." "I am not. Not at all. I think you'll be fine and have a great time." She looked at me suspiciously. "You're worried, I can see it in your eyes." "I am not."
We drove to the airport and met my mom and her husband. We chatted for a bit and I hugged her tight, "Have fun! Love you!" She waved to me and off she went. It was just me and my 7 year old.
That night my little one was missing her sister. We called her and chatted for a bit. I had to admit, it was strange having her so far away. I tried not to bother her too much over the next few days. I would text about once a day and get one word responses. Which was fine. She was busy and having fun. On the Fourth of July, I texted her "Happy Fourth of July! Have fun at the fireworks. I love you." Her response was, "OK." I didn't think anything of it and we went through our day. That night we got ready for fireworks and we took the neighbors with us. I asked the 11 year old if my daughter had texted her. She said she had and handed me her phone. She had written to my daughter, "Come home soon. I love you." My daughter responded with "Love you too :)". I felt a little betrayed. Like a lover scorned. I got an OK and she got an I love you? I birthed you, I've dedicated my entire life to you and all I get is barely an after thought? It felt like 1,000 cuts. It hurt my feelings deeply. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but I do.
We went to fireworks and they were beautiful. We had a great time.
The next day it was time for my daughter to come home. I was practically counting down the hours. I decided that I would not make a scene. I would not be overly jubilant and risk embarrassing her. I would not mention anything about the "I love you" thing. What good would it do? It would just make her feel bad to know that I am disappointed about it. I do not want to be an overbearing mother and I find myself being very deliberate in the things that I say to her and how I react to things, because I know that I have a tendency to smother. I don't make her hug or kiss me if she doesn't want to. She still does sometimes, unsolicited, if she is in a mood to. It's not as often as I would like. I am starting to see things change. To see her pull away very slowly. She is turning into her own person now, and she is very capable and she doesn't need to be tethered to me even though I feel like I need her to be. I had an epiphany about a year ago, as I was listening to Pink Floyd. haha. In the song Mother there is a lyric that goes, "Mama's going to keep you right here under your wing, she won't let you fly but she might let you sing." I don't want to be that mother. I want her to fly and sing. I want to keep her safe but I don't want to stifle her. She needs my guidance and support and love but she doesn't need me to micro-manage her life and make all of her decisions. She's still so young but she's not little any more.
I got ready to go to the airport. I walked in and saw that the plane was delayed. I say and waited. There was a young mother there with a 15 month old her lap. She was singing and entertaining her. "Where is your nose?" "That's right!" "Where are your eyes?" The baby was amused by this little game. The mother nibbled on her little baby neck and she squealed with delight. I smiled and I reminisced about my own daughter. How she could sit on my lap and how intoxicated I would be by her smell and her laughter and the squishiness of her baby arms and thighs. It seems like a lifetime ago. I stood up near the terminal and waited for her to emerge from around the corner. I watched happy reunions of lovers and parents and children and grandparents and grandchildren and I couldn't help but tear up a little. I was feeling very sentimental.
That's when I saw her. She walked around the corner and I waved to her. She smiled a closed lipped smile and walked over to me. I held my arms out and she leaned into them. She did not wrap her arms around me but our bodies touched for a moment and that was enough. I hugged my mother and her husband and we went to retrieve their bags. After we dropped them off, my daughter and I drove home together.
I listened to her while she regaled me with her stories of New York City. She told me about all of her shopping and Central Park, Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. She talked excitedly about cab and subway rides and the beauty and immensity of St. Patrick's cathedral. She is so big now and I think she looks and talks just like me when I was that age. It's so strange to see so much of myself in her.
We had to stop by the grocery store on the way home and we were getting ready to cross the street. She reached out and grabbed my hand unexpectedly. "Next time I go to New York City, I want to go with you and I will show you around." I smiled at her. "That would be wonderful." In that moment, it didn't matter that she didn't say I love you back, because I knew that it was so.
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