CHHHANGES

 

 

In Lynnda’s evaluation of my dream yesterday she felt perhaps I was becoming reluctant to share such a personal time in my life.  I feel all times in one’s life are personal to a degree, though I understand what she means. But I have sort of taken to making a career of sharing the personal and making films and writing about what others oftentimes fear to admit.

Though I am not without conscience and it made me pause for a moment.  Did I want to share all of what we go through the next year?  There may be things that make people– primarily Taylor– upset from time to time.  But I signed on to do this and the biggest surprise to me is how many people are actually reading it and responding.

While discussing it with Glenn this morning he got an email from Scotland from a family following it. That seemed to be the answer, if I am able to articulate through our family’s experience what others are going through too then I feel obligated to continue. And quite frankly I want to continue. At the end of the year I want the documentation of what it felt like, the changes that occurred and where we are at the end of the freshman year with all of its ups and downs and progressions.  And people’s comments are amazing and I feel like it is giving many a place to vent and share and connect. So onward we go!!!

 

When I left Taylor in Boston two weeks ago I felt bereft in those first twenty-four hours, but her response when we parted and her follow-through over the next week made me feel like not much would change. She would live and go to school in Boston for seven and a half months a year and be home the rest of the time. Our relationship would become closer as she would not feel stifled by my and Glenn’s daily presence and she would be able to find out who she is in the world separate from us.

In those first days she needed to cling to what she knew and seemed more attached to me than she had in a long time.  Much energy her senior year was devoted to avoiding us and carving out her independence, now that she clearly had it her goal that first week seemed to be carving out a place where we all connected.

“We would see each other every two weeks,”  she said last morning. Carol Maxym,  if she is reading this, just cringed.

“We would talk and ichat and email several times a day.”   Really not much would change.

Some point during that first week my friend Dominique called me to see how I was. I said I was in fact better than I thought I would be and Taylor seemed closer to me and more in contact– real contact– than she had in ages. If one leaves out much of the summer when she was gearing up to leave and spent more time than usual with us.

I said it was actually better; she was seeking out closeness and constant communication. Dominique who is truly wise and the mother of a college senior said, “enjoy it while it lasts, it will change.”

While I believed her, on one level I thought well, I will be different. Maybe for her it was that way, and maybe it says that in all the books but the arrogance of denial told me we would stay in the comfy cozy pattern we were existing in.

 Dominique was right. It did change and I was a fool to think it wouldn’t and of course it has to. This would not be such a big deal if it weren’t, well, a big deal.

To give Taylor credit, that first week she was in constant touch. Her classes hadn’t started yet, she hadn’t connected with others in a deep way as it was all too new and the city was strange and she hadn’t shifted into a routine.

But she moves fast and she makes friends fast and she has always been a very friend-centric kid.  There are kids who define themselves by their peers, kids who define themselves by their interests and their families and the perfect mix, the kid who can somehow handle it all.  Taylor has always put a lot of weight in the friend basket, which is age-appropriate but sometimes marginalizing for the family.

She was really good the first five nights, she went out and texted me when she got in. I told her we would not keep it up as I couldn’t ask it and it wasn’t fair to make her do it.  I just needed to get used to having her in a different city and not knowing when she got home. I am now used to it. I can sleep fine and I NEVER call her first thing in the morning to see if she is OK. So I stopped asking and she stopped doing it. I have strangely adjusted to this faster than I ever thought I would.

Also to her credit she has called each day. One day in fact she scolded me for being busy when she called. She had happened to call me two days in a row at two in the afternoon– this is my final push hour in my writing and I’m on a big deadline. So I said, “Any time but this I can talk. And I don’t want to not be able to give you my full attention.  It would be like me calling you in the middle of class.”

Kids have this thing where they can call you in the middle of a meeting, an operation or a private visit with the Pope and you should drop it all to talk to them, but don’t you dare call them in the middle of GOSSIP GIRL!!!!!!!!!!

But what I have noticed this week is the phone calls have gotten shorter.  She is either on her way into WHOLE FOODS or just coming out of WHOLE FOODS. She is washing her hair or about to wash her hair. She is in the dining hall, on her way to the dining hall, coming back from the dining hall.  And often times reception is “bad” only it sounds fine to me.  She is moving to the place where having an actual conversation with me is not too important anymore. I feel, and I may be wrong and she can defend her position on the blog which might help parents understand as my guess is I’m not the only one feeling this, but I feel that talking to me is beginning to fall into the realm of being a “chore.”  I think she feels  “If I tell her I love her every day,  it will shut her up and I can live my life in peace.”

I do get an “I love u” on my black berry each day. And that means a lot. And maybe in this area I’m impossible to please. I want an I love you and a conversation that lasts longer than two minutes at least sometimes.

 Her new life and routine, her new friends which I imagine in college become your family only better as they don’t ask you if you are studying, taking your vitamins over or overdrawing your bank account have taken front and center and we have been relegated to the back of her interests drawer, a place we are familiar with.
I know, I know, this is natural and part of the process but it doesn’t make it easier.

Our longest conversations are BlackBerry Instant Messaging; I’m old enough that that is my least favorite form of communication. It is so brief and lacks intimacy. And it has its own boundaries, when you say something that could actually branch into a dialogue and the response is AWWW or HAHAHAHAHAHA, that means conversation over.

We are getting more and more of those.

I think yesterday was tough because it was Glenn’s birthday and the first family holiday without her here. We had a small dinner and included one of her friends as sort of a stand-in though he is far too interesting and engaging a character to be called a stand-in. He took on an entire table of grown ups– all but one of whom disagreed with him politically, all heavyweights in media and he would not back down, he could articlate every point with  a list of facts and he was beyond impressive. He was like a mini William F. Buckley Jr.

 

But I knew she would forget it was Glenn’s birthday and of course she did. Luckily she called before day’s end and I reminded her, so she could call him and wish him a happy birthday.  These are the little things that count though. I suppose not in the land of adolescent narcissism, which is redundant. But in the world and I suppose the things they will either figure it out or not.

But remembering the man who raised you’s birthday is not much to ask of someone who claims to be an adult.
Her sister is put off as she has sent her two videos on Facebook, one I took part in where we sang her a silly song – not only did Taylor not respond to her little sister she erased the videos from her page. This truly hurt Lucy’s feelings and she now swears to never contact her again. Not true, she loves her sister, she just wants to feel like she counts somewhere in her sister’s world. She is hurt.

A hello on Lucy’s Facebook page every day or so would mean the world to her.

So I now have an nine year old with hurt feelings who I’m trying to explain separation to when I don’t really understand it in these terms myself.

And then my father almost died last week, he only came home from the hopistal two days ago, not once has she asked how he is. Note to Taylor: pick up a phone and call him. He is eighty-two next week, came a hair away from death, and it would mean a lot to hear your voice.

This is what they don’t understand, we don’t want that much, a teacher’s name so we have a bit on knowledge to their world. What did you have for dinner, I would like to know that about her once a week.  And a few questions about your own life: “How is work?” “What’s new with you?” every now and then. Not every day, but sometimes. “Is your Grandpa alright?”  “Did Glenn have a good birthday?”   I  do not like eighty percent of my remarks being responded to by  ”awww” of  ”hahahahahah.”  

Perhaps it’s what life teaches you and it’s what they are off learning. Surgically removing yourself from lives where you have been a foundational element leaves a hole and it takes little on your part, and I say this to all kids to make your parents and families feel OK.

It’s not all about you. And this is a giant problem with kids.

Families need to know their presence counts even if they’re not around.

You can separate and not hurt feelings. You can be a person while still being interested in others’ lives. You can have your own life and identity while still identifying with those who will always be there and have always been.

You can emotionally  multi-task; it just takes a little time, a little thought and a little effort. But, trust me, it’s worth it.

 

FRESHMAN MOM