The Post Turkey Run
The fridge was filled with leftovers, the relatives long gone.
The whirlwind holiday preparations scratched off the list and I could finally focus on the fact that I had my daughter home for her first visit since she started college. Feeling utterly stuffed, we decided to take our usual hike on a path we know well, it is the one we spent her high school years literally trekking up and down, somehow the mountain air and non-judging landscape was the perfect place to vent all her teenage grievances. It was a homecoming, starting up the mountain together and regaining our rhythm.
There is a place on the path marked by an ancient, leaky water fountain that is the half-way point. Our tradition was to always run from that point to the end of the path. We nodded to each other without a word and started to run. It felt great to have our unspoken language back, being able to understand each other with a nod of head. Somehow those three months she had been away were filled with cell phone calls that delivered jumbled words and passing essential information (like, “I need more money”) but no real communication.
Running in unison, all seemed perfect with the world. After a few minutes our old rhythm of matching each other stride for stride wasn’t working anymore, I could tell she was holding back. I kicked it up a little, but the 50-year-old knees protested loudly. I nodded to her and said, “Go on”, she hesitated a minute, seeing if I was really serious about letting her break away, so I waved her on with my hand and she flew down the mountain.
I lost sight of her until I rounded the final bend. She was waiting at the fence post, completely composed, not at all out of breath, clearly she had been there for quite some time. As I looked at her, I was trying to figure out if she had gotten that much faster over the last three months, or if I had gotten slower. The memory of my father’s face the first time my brother had beaten him in one-on-one basketball popped into my mind, that expression of pride, mingled with the sad truth the tide is turning.
I was out of breath when I finally reached her. Actually, the sight of her took my breath away. She was standing tall, out in the clear, running her own race.
Diane L.
Diane is a writer/producer who lives in L.A.
Proud mother of 2 girls, she is the ultimate Myphemer
and tells it like it is!
Comments
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I SOOO get this..it's just unfair that the kids grow up. Wonder when I grew up?
daphne – Dec 1st, 2009 -
thank you for sharing this beautiful metaphor for; pure love, shared experience, growth, independence, and grace in letting go...
shelley Rosenberg – Dec 1st, 2009 -
THIS IS TYPICAL DIANE. PROLIFIC, ARTICULATE, WRITTEN IN VISION. EVERY MOM SHOULD READ THIS.
ONE PROBLEM, DIANE HAS THE LEGS OF A 20 YEAR OLD. I HAVE YET TO SEE HER OUT OF BREATH. BUT, SHE GIVES IT TO YOU AS IT IS, SO, SHE WAS OUT OF BREATH. SHE HAS GIVEN HER TWO DAUGHTERS WINGS TO FLY. SHE HAS GIVEN MORE TO OUR FAMILY UNIVERSE BY ALLOWING US ALL TO BE WHO WE ARE. BETSY, SOMETIMES 'X'BETSY RATHE, DIANE L FIRST COUSIN – Dec 1st, 2009 -
i felt the pain of the heart and my own knees as i read diane's wonderful piece. i am getting in training for my yearly christmas-in-hawaii run with my own daughters. but i may just have to be content to their whipping past me in a game of beach scrabble. either way -- it is sweet to be bestest by your progeny. as the song goes -- teach your children well. you seemed to have taught your children (and yourself) pretty darn well.
jon – Dec 1st, 2009 -
Di, as always, you beautifully express the reality we are facing. Our daughters are doing what they should be, but oh how very painful it is for us to let go. We have each other to share this transition in our lives. It is bittersweet. Love, Debi
Debi Graboff – Dec 1st, 2009 -
This entry really got to me. My kids are just starting junior high next year and I am already getting pretty misty thinking about it all. How do you keep it together without falling apart in the carpool lane?
play misty for me – Dec 1st, 2009 -
What a beautiful story of a moment in time that all of us moms (and dads) can relate to.
Claire – Dec 1st, 2009 -
Diane, what a beautiful mother/daughter piece. it is sensitive and loving. You're a great mom and always will be. Our daugthers are growing up beautifully. We need to enjoy our changing relationships--I think it will only get better.
Love Lori- Dec 1,2009
Lori Goodman – Dec 1st, 2009 -
Di,
What a beautiful touching piece! Although I am at a different stage with my kids, I can really understand especially with how you articulated your feelings in this piece. Thank you for sharing this with me! You always have such thoughtful wisdom.Love you, Wendy
Wendy Klein – Dec 2nd, 2009 -
is there any way to slow this time thing down? i stumbled on this web site and am hooked.
manic in manhattan – Dec 2nd, 2009 -
What a poignant piece! Your depiction certainly made me feel as though I was actually there. Seeing our children grow older and letting go so they may enter the new phases of their lives can certainly be bittersweet. Thank you for sharing!
xo
lizliz wolfe – Dec 2nd, 2009 -
Diane, I never realized how vividly you wrote. It was a beautiful piece and made me want to hold on just a little tighter to my boys as they are growing up way too fast. XOXO, Hill
hillary – Dec 3rd, 2009 -
Diane,
What a beautiful story, with a final run a prefect metaphor for your growing and changing relationship w/your daughter. Thanks for writing and sharing.
Ally – Dec 4th, 2009 -
What an amazing, brilliantly written story that encapsulates so much so eloquently. Diane is truly a talented writer. Her writing makes MY knees weak!
Marc – Dec 10th, 2009
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