"Colors spinning, shapes twisting, the change is what makes it fascinating, this kaleidoscope of give and take that begins the day your daughter is born." ~J.J.Sill I have a mother, and I know her name. I learned her name as a young girl, when she was at work and I was at home.
Reaching up to the phone, attached to the wall, and spinning the dial, I called her office, I called out for her. I had to speak first to the receptionist and ask for my mother. I learned that I couldn't just ask for "Mom". Some of the phone calls were simple, a quick question that she could answer, without too much stress into her workday. Some of the phone calls ended in tears, as her three adolescent children fought with one another, and longed for control. But, the feeling that I remember was that of pursuit. I was chasing my Mother, seeking her time. It was a time of me as the cat, she as the mouse.
Reaching up to the phone, attached to the wall, and spinning the dial, I called her office, I called out for her. I had to speak first to the receptionist and ask for my mother. I learned that I couldn't just ask for "Mom". Some of the phone calls were simple, a quick question that she could answer, without too much stress into her workday. Some of the phone calls ended in tears, as her three adolescent children fought with one another, and longed for control. But, the feeling that I remember was that of pursuit. I was chasing my Mother, seeking her time. It was a time of me as the cat, she as the mouse.
Many years later, when I was a new mother, living six states away from my Mother, she would call me each morning. I would rush to the phone, on the wall in my kitchen, to hear her voice. But, the instant that my newborn daughter would begin to fuss, the phone call would come to an end. She was chasing her Daughter, seeking her time. It was a time of me as the mouse, she as the cat.
Today, I call from my cell phone, while driving my car, to speak with my Mother, and she asks,
"What's wrong? You don't usually call."
My heart sinks. Oh, was it my turn to be the cat? Was I playing the mouse, when I am supposed to be the pursuer. My eyes well with tears, because I know what the future will one day hold for us all. Life is moment. A breath and its gone; am I playing with fire in my relaxed nature of it all?
I sit in an office, on a warm afternoon, and my cell phone rings with a individualized ring tone, announcing my daughter. She's been playing the cat, chasing after my time. I rush through the call, and I take it all for granted. I assume that when the time comes and it's my turn to play cat, she'll answer my call.
Through the time that I have been both a daughter and a mother, I have watched this paradigm as it changes, swirls and shifts. As a younger woman, I didn't understand it. I thought that the way that we each related would always stay the same. But, as I have experienced daughter-hood flowing within motherhood, I understand that the constant will always be change. It's hard for me to purposeful and I don't want to make a mistake. Trust, grace and love have to become the trinkets at the end of my kaleidoscope. I have to look through those shades when viewing my choices, and the choices of the two women who I love more than life. These are the shades of grace and peace.
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