Voices from the Past

Six years ago, when my daughter went to school for the first time as a high school freshman, I opened a blog about her new adventure from homeschool to high school. The blog was deleted from the server a couple of years ago, but I kept the posts, minus comments. Recently she asked me to send them to her, so I did, and I’ve also been reading through them myself. I had no idea how I was going to get through her teen years then, and I still don’t know how I made it now, a mere six months after she left teenhood behind.* This post, I think, is a perfect example of what I mean.

Scene: My daughter and I are driving home on from a Passover Seder in Cincinnati. We pass a storage unit facility with a display of colorful neon lighted palm trees and fireworks.

Reticula: That's really cool! I wonder when they put that up.

Daughter: Mom, it's always been there. You've seen it a hundred times.

Reticula: Huh uh. I've never seen it before. We've driven by a thousand times and I've never seen it there.

Daughter (sighs heavily): Mom. It. Has. Always. Been. There.

Reticula: When the Alzheimer’s gets bad, promise you'll take care of me.

Daughter: (silence)

Reticula: Promise you'll change my diapers. Don't let anybody else change my diapers.

Daughter: No.

Reticula: I've changed thousands of your diapers. You won't change mine?

Daughter: No.

Reticula: You're won't take care of your poor demented mom and change her diapers?

Daughter: No.

Reticula: Will you help me kill myself then?

Daughter: Yes.

* The irony does not escape me that my daughter is now changing her daughter’s diapers, and someday she too could have this conversation with the same conclusion. She is now aware that her time on earth is limited, and that she too must follow the laws of karma. That’s why she has apologized to me for being such an awful teenager and why she has started praying to whomever will listen--and nobody will, we all know that--that her daughter won’t put her through the same thing. I tell her birth was the least painful part of being a mother....She'll learn that on her own though.

Baby and Black Leather

I smell like baby. New baby. Mmmmm. And leather. Black leather. My daughter came over to my house today for the first time since her baby was born. She even let me hold her for a while, although not as long as I would have if she weren't a selfish little brat loving, attached mother. Oh, that baby is so scrumptious. You know what she smells like, right? Only she smells better than you remember babies smelling--like fairies and lightning bugs and summer nights...only better. And she giggled in her sleep while I was holding her. Not even two weeks old and she giggled. I'm not kidding. She smiles at me too. Mmmmmm. Baby.

When I went out on the porch to greet them, I noticed a package stuffed into the outside of the mail slot. I pulled it out and we went in out of the heat. I threw it on the chair.

Daughter: What's in the package?
Me: Oh, I think I know. Something I'll probably send back.
Daughter: You haven't even looked at it. What is it?
Me: Lingerie? I guess that's what you'd call it.
Daughter: Open it. Let me see.
Me: OK, but I really do think I'm going to send it back. (carefully opening the package and pulling out the contents.)
Daughter: (looking up  from the couch where she's sitting with her newborn in her lap.) Wow! Mommers, did you order that? Is that leather?
Me: I ordered it a while ago. It just came.
Daughter: Try it on. Right now!
Me: Right here in the living room?....Ummmm.....I guess I can close the blinds. The baby is asleep, right?
Daughter: She might as well get used to you now. Just put it on and let's see what it looks like.
Me: OK, I will if I can figure out how to....how do I get into it? It looks too small.
Daughter: Unzip it.
Me: I don't think that will be enough. I have to do something else.
Daughter: Start there.
Me: OK, I got it but something else will have to be loosened. Don't you think it looks small?
Daughter: It's supposed to be tight. Don't pull the laces all the way out....that looks good. Try it now.
Me: (trying....) Oh, shit. I'm stuck.
Daughter: Stop! You've got it all kinked up.
Me: Kinked up? You think? I can't get it on like this.....shit...my head is stuck in the.....damn it....I can't get it off! Help me get this thing off!
Daughter: Where will I put the baby?
Me: (muffled) Put her on the couch.
Daughter: She might roll off.
Me: She can't roll! She can't even hold her head up. Lay her by the back of the couch and put a pillow beside her. Hurry up! I'm suffocating.
Daughter: (finally helping) Here, just let me loosen.....
Me: Let me take off my glasses......there...wait!....now just....
Daughter: I've got it....stop struggling. I need to loosen this some more.....
Me: I think a bone is caught in my hair.....Ouch! That hurts!
Daughter: Stop fighting me!
Me: I'm not fighting you....I'm....obviously it's too small....
Daughter: I've almost got it.....just hold your arms up.....there. It's off.
Me: Wow. I'm definitely sending that thing back.
Daughter: No, try it on first. You just didn't do it right.
Me: It's not going to do me much good if I can't get into it by myself. And once I do, I'll never get out of it and isn't the whole point to....
Daughter: Oh, look! It came with accessories.
Me: What the hell are those?
Daughter: These hook on here and....see?....and this is....
Me: Oh! I get it. No, I'm not going to be wearing that...accessory. That's definitely too small.
Daughter: You might if you ever get that on. Try it again.
Me: No......(holding it up and examining the problem) I might be able to pull it up from the bottom.
Daughter: That won't work.
Me: Yes, it will if I loosen this some more. Watch. (pulling it on from the bottom and fastening some...things....into place....success!)
Daughter: It's too big.
Me: Maybe if I do this....I measured.....let me get it zipped.
Daughter: You've lost weight.
Me: Not that much. I measured....twice.
Daughter: Well, it's too big....Don't do that! You can't do that with those laces.....Here, let me fix it....
Me: It's too big. It doesn't matter. I was going to send it back anyway. I only ordered it because...
Daughter: Why?
Me: Nevermind. 
Daughter: Oh, you needed a reason?
Me: For leather? Yeah! It was just payback for something else... it was just a costume.
Daughter: It's not going to look like a costume if you get the right size. Send for one two sizes smaller and wear it out. Wear it when you ride your bike!
Me: Don't think so.
Daughter: Here, hold these up to your....
Me: I will never wear that, so don't get it close to my....
Daughter: You never know unless you try it.
Me: I have a vivid imagination.
Daughter: This is kind of weird, you know, that you're trying that on. And it's not fair. There's no way I could get into that, and it's too big for you, and you're 30 years older than me.
Me: Twenty years ago you weren't much older than that baby you're holding, and I couldn't have gotten into it then.
Daughter: Still not fair.
Me: I'm sending this back. You get to keep her forever. I think it's perfectly fair.
Daughter: Get one two sizes smaller.
Me: I don't need it now. It didn't arrive in time.
Daughter: You might want to keep one on reserve then.
Me: (getting dressed again) Hmmmm. You might have a point about that. I'd need help getting it on though. And off.
Daughter: That could be fun.
Me: Yes, it could. I'll think about it. Give me that baby now.


Baby.....and leather. Mmmm. Grandma smells good.