My daughter told me the other day that she would be sure to read my blog on Wednesday when she was out of town. I asked her why just Wednesday, afterall, don't you read it everyday? Ok, apparently not. I haven't exactly made my blog public knowledge as I practice this venue, and my kids clearly feel no need to check it out on a daily basis. But why Wednesday? "Because it's Retro Wednesday, of course," she responded in a matter-of-fact tone. I looked at her, and she saw the confusion in my eyes. "Mom, on Wednesdays you usually explain past events that I know about, but I don't know how you saw them. I find it interesting to see your explanation of the events as compared to how I remember them. It's really kind of cool."
Can you see the mother and child?
It's precisely what I have told my kids all along and learned early on with my own brother and sister. We all have our own realities. Two kids that are 8 years apart in a family are most certainly going to remember their upbringing in completely different ways...the making of different histories. What I didn't think of was that, of course, the kids would also have a completely different perspective from mom and dad. Just as mom and dad have completely different perspectives as well. But what I love about communicating with my kids about these things is we learn about each other and how we take in our surroundings. We are able to learn about different perspectives.
Recently, my son has been on my daughter's case about "getting out and making more friends". This is rather a sore spot for my daughter. I have thought about this a lot as I do not want to become my daughter's only friend. So I started looking back at our "histories", and I came upon an interesting revelation. Over the years, my daughter had often had friends visit for sleep overs, played and bicycled in the neighborhoods where we lived, and was often invited to parties. But two years ago, my daughter became ingrossed in her dance and started being very much a homebody when not at dance.
Recently, my son has been on my daughter's case about "getting out and making more friends". This is rather a sore spot for my daughter. I have thought about this a lot as I do not want to become my daughter's only friend. So I started looking back at our "histories", and I came upon an interesting revelation. Over the years, my daughter had often had friends visit for sleep overs, played and bicycled in the neighborhoods where we lived, and was often invited to parties. But two years ago, my daughter became ingrossed in her dance and started being very much a homebody when not at dance.
Well, it then occurred to me that this young girl, 11 years old when this trend started becoming apparent, was her mom's only keeper when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her brother was away at school, and so she and I went out for a special dinner when I told her. She was strong but most certainly scared and most likely feeling lonely. During the unsuing summer months, we thankfully had many friends and family decend on our normally very tiny household. I went through a grueling 9 hour surgery, and I think my daughter felt she was relegated to the outer rim during those weeks.
When school started again in September, the dust had settled and all family and friends were gone. As I started my daily radiation treatments and went back to work full-time, the only person left was my daughter, since my son too had returned to school in Chicago. This young girl matured very quickly during that time, striving to be supportive and strong as the radiation and chronic pain sapped my energy. My daughter's dance classes became her escape from the realities of life, but I believe during that time she withdrew from the normal day-to-day silliness that teenage girls so often enjoy and need.
When school started again in September, the dust had settled and all family and friends were gone. As I started my daily radiation treatments and went back to work full-time, the only person left was my daughter, since my son too had returned to school in Chicago. This young girl matured very quickly during that time, striving to be supportive and strong as the radiation and chronic pain sapped my energy. My daughter's dance classes became her escape from the realities of life, but I believe during that time she withdrew from the normal day-to-day silliness that teenage girls so often enjoy and need.
So, although I know my daughter will now make more new friends at her next school, I respect her "history". Not many teenage girls face the reality of their mother's frailty and learn about these deep life lessons at such a tender age. We may all see something different when looking at the same picture, but it's acknowledging the other person's perception that helps us understand each other.
Now, as my son graduates from college, I hope to also learn more about how he is seeing the world. Ahhh, if only these kids came with manuals!
Now, as my son graduates from college, I hope to also learn more about how he is seeing the world. Ahhh, if only these kids came with manuals!
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