On the saccharine scale, expressing love for your offspring is right up there with the love of 4-legged companions.
Nevertheless, my mood immediately brightened Tuesday night when I booked a flight to La Guardia – Thursday night I'll see my daughter again. She says she's happy I'm coming too, even though I so often embarrass her. I understand: it's tough being Ms. Young Professional in the Big Apple when your mother is, well, your mother
. We won't see each other all that much – I have friends there and plans, and she has work and work. But just seeing her and the life she is forging is profoundly uplifting to me.
In a somewhat similar way, I enjoy revisiting my artistic work – I sometimes don't remember the act of creation when I look at my prints or writing, and then I think, "Wow, how is it that I knew that back then?" Not so with my kid... I remember thinking at the moment of conception – I kid you not – that she would have his eyes and "Yes, I can live with those eyes for the rest of my life."
A year later, her great, great aunt told her, "When you grow up you tell people you don't just have brown eyes, you have Beautiful Brown eyes."
One of my very favorite Valentine's Days was setting up a treasure hunt for her a mere 4 years after that. We created a tangle of colored strings, each with a little gift attached, winding through our crowded 450 square foot apartment in so-called "Married Student Housing". We handed her the strings in a careful sequence, so that the best gift, a locket, was saved for last. When she finally got to it her eyes lit up, and mine misted over.
Countdown: O N E . . .
* Thanks, Madonna