Hello Everyone!
First, a big thanks to all of those who have stopped by to
read and leave comments. I sometimes
wonder why I blog, since it can oftentimes appear to be a futile effort, so I
truly do appreciate your time and feedback. It really does make it worthwhile.
In life and other matters, my twelve year old daughter had a
sleep-over this week. Typical
twelve-year old stuff: Nail polish,
hanging out at the park, bad movie, ghost-stories, home-made Ouija board, etc. My daughter and her friend asked to walk down
the trail by our house to ransack a Mulberry tree and I agreed. It really wasn’t that far, and they are
twelve and together. And, my daughter
assured me, her friend had her phone.
As I watched their pony-tails swinging down the block and
disappear around the corner, I sighed the parental sigh of Mommies
everywhere: My pre-teen is growing up so
fast; well on the path to leaving me, as all children are since Day One. I was having all these type of thoughts when
the phone rang. I picked it up and
heard, “I’ve got’cha where I want’cha.
Now I’m gonna eat’cha.”
It was my daughter and her friend, discussing the lame ghost
story I had told them at dinner that night.
I quickly realized the phone had speed-dialed our house on accident, and
now I was somehow a voyeur, secret passenger on their walk down the path. I listened as they giggled, screamed, gushed
and talkedsofast I could hardly understand a word, but the poignancy of the
moment caught me: Here I was, suspended
in my daughter’s world. One apart from
me, but one I helped create.
I wouldn’t tell her, but I will tell you. I put the phone on speaker and listened for a
few moments as I did the dishes. They
were so fresh and full of life. I didn’t
feel like I was invading her privacy, just admiring their world from my
place. The writer in me thought, “If
this was a book, something terrible would happen to one of the girls, and then
the phone would go dead!” Yuck. Not a
book I’d want to read, so I pushed the thought away and reveled in the beauty
of my daughter’s world for the moment.
That is—until my four year old came in the door and said,
“Geez Mom! Are you still wistening to
dat?”
I sighed again, the sigh of parents everywhere, and hung up
the phone. On to the next moment.
As for ROW 80,
Private Just Jill reporting for duty! Article done for submission to “Chicken Soup
for the Mother’s Soul” (I know…) and I am entering a contest to help get the
lead out as far as re-editing my MS “Dreamwalker”.
Over and Out!
