Mothers and Daughters

I just hung up the phone from a three hour conversation with my daughter. I love that we talk on the phone daily. In the past year she has become my alarm clock; every morning at 8:00 she calls. I miss speaking to her on those rare mornings when something comes up and she can't call at her normal time (not to mention that I oversleep when she doesn't call).These morning calls have come to be the highlight of my day. Not only do I get the chance to speak with my grandson Finn for a bit, but Lindsay and I tend to have very good conversations. We discuss many things ranging from motherhood to world issues to philosophical matters. Lindsay is great conversationalist; she has a great mind filled with knowledge of many things. Her work in recovery has developed her into a wonderful young lady with an admirable value system. I stand to learn a lot from her; I DO learn a lot from her. She has a spirituality about her that makes me want to strive to be a better person.

Though I will always be her mom, our relationship has changed in the past year or so. Now it seems as though we have more of a friendship than a mother/daughter relationship. I like that. I like that we can talk without getting boggled down in the mother/daughter struggle. Our relationship is no longer about the idea of "I'm the mother and I know best so you need to listen to me" or the idea of "I'm grown and want to live my own life now so butt out." I think we both recognize that we each have something to offer to the other and we are both now willing to listen. It wasn't always like that. We spent much of her college years in a power struggle. Me struggling to maintain control of her life for so many reasons. Mainly because I feared that if I let go I would lose her or that she would make mistakes that would harm her. And also in part because I didn't have the confidence in her that she was capable of making it on her own. She, on the other hand, struggled for power over her own life--succeed or fail--she wanted to do it on her own. Basically, as harsh as it may be, she was struggling to rid herself of me. I've learned a lot from those years. Most importantly is that I had to let go and that no matter how hard I held on or how much I struggled for power, she still slipped through my fingers. She was determined to live her own life, her own way.

I can pinpoint the exact day that my need for control of her life left me like a bird in flight. I was visiting her right after the birth of Finn. Prior to my visit I had adopted the mantra "bite your tongue, bite your tongue." I needed to get a grip on the reality that Finn was not my son; he was hers to raise how she saw fit. Halfway into my visit it dawned on me that I had not once had to bite my tongue. It was then that I realized that my daughter was more than capable of making her own way in life and more than capable of raising her own child. Simply put, I let go. I told my daughter what a wonderful mother I thought she was and I let go; my job, for all intents and purposes, was done.

I love where our relationship is now; despite the age difference, we are peers in this wonderful journey called motherhood.