I spent a bittersweet weekend with Kelly, Chris, and Lily. Eric and I packed up the camper to bring it home for the winter. I always tear up pulling out of the road. I love my little condo in Madison. My girl is living her life so far away from me it hurts. I know she is building a beautiful life for herself and that makes it ok. I fantasize about living up there in the woods with her, but that isn’t my place. It is my place to be Mom, Mah, and Mimi on the weekends that I can escape to Madison. I get to watch my beautiful, loving, articulate, brilliant, capable, creative, tolerant, and reasonable girl be a Mom.
Watching her in action brings back so many wonderful memories for me. I am reminded of the feeling of being a baby’s favorite person in the whole world. I get remnants of cuddling all the children I have held, when I hold Lily. She puts her head on my chest, leans into me, shakes her entire body when saying no. She is sticky. She cries over silly things. You can’t put the toothpicks into the dog’s water bowl. You cannot play in the liquor cabinet. My youngest baby girl Kerry, had a similar temperament. She used to get hysterical and cry if we said the word “No” when she was a tiny child. I think they both are just convinced of the merit of their choice and protest any negative feedback as an attack on their freedom.
I remember the exhaustion, and feeling insane because the demands on a mother are less than reasonable. I also remember the joy. I see it as joy now, I didn’t always in the thick of it. There is joy every time you ask something of your little one and they comply. Lily will put the dog biscuit back in the box. It is a victory. I showed her two different signs that were yellow. She looked back and forth between them, calculating the similarity. She got it. I know she did. Motherhood is a series of victories and losses. You can’t dwell on the loss, you just keep practicing and be ready to do better. Hope for the win.
I wonder how Lily will evolve. Will she love animals like her Mom or will it push her the other way once the animals become part of her responsibility? Chicken coops, cat boxes and cleaning up dog poop in the yard are yucky jobs. A labor of love for the people who choose those things. Eventually muck boots in every size will surround their front door. Will Lily rebel and move to a condo in the city going to bars and concerts? Or will she learn to ride dirt bikes, wear flannels and drink around a fire pit? Time will tell. She will absorb all the personalities around her and make her own decisions. Kelly will guide her and will be a practical but fun Mother. I think driving teenagers to concerts and waiting outside for hours is in the dna so Lily is sure to have a great time.
I remember when Kelly was little she used to act like a puppy. She made all of the sounds, movements, and actions any dog would. She was like a stage actor from the play “Cats” that I saw in NY at the Winter Garden theater. I remember being so impressed that I was going to see a play in New York City. I was confused when the theater was tiny and the actors were so close to my seat. I expected a grand ornate stage and huge ceilings like in Boston at the Pops, or The Nutcracker. It was tiny, and dark, and dirty. But the familiar music started and the show pulled me into the setting and the story. The actors crawled around on stage slinking and grooming and running with abandon. That was Kelly. She wasn’t going to be a run of the mill child. She had more to express, more to be. For years she acted like our pet golden retriever more than she chose to act like a child. It was just the beginning of her great love of animals, and the ever growing farm she works at daily, is full of love.
She has elected to be the caretaker of chickens and ducks, dogs and a cat, a bunny and anything else she can get her hands on. She’s been in training for motherhood for years now. Because she is reasonable she recently put some rules in place to curb her addiction to fur, feathers, and scales. She did it out of love for Lily. Forced into devotion by that demanding, beautiful, sometimes unreasonable muffin she calls Kooka (silent nod to Pooka). I couldn’t be more proud of my daughter Kelly, the mother of my first grandchild.
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MyDeHart 
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