Happy Hands

I miss her. She’s never been completely accessible to me; what moves her has always been secreted away deep inside this child turned woman. But at least when she was in my general vicinity I could watch her, I could look in her eyes and see things ticking away, lights going on and off and feel her energy. The mere fact that she has always been a puzzle to figure out and a mystery to ponder has kept me hopelessly hooked.

Abby is not one for chitchat and of my two children, she is less likely to want to have a heart-to-heart conversation. She would gladly talk with me about number theory or the similarities between ancient and modern Greek- except those things are Greek to me.

Long before she left for college the end of August she turned to the ocean. It is not an exaggeration to say she would prefer to be underwater most all of the time. When she dives she is less like a diver and more like a creature of the sea, poking around in seemingly aimless fashion, floating quietly among sharks, gently communing with turtles.

In this picture I’m not sure what she’s saying. It either has to do with how much air she has in her tank or, more likely, she’s indicating that she saw (and liked) something interesting that was pointed out to her. With Abby, pictures are often worth a thousand words. Communication (submitted to Thursday Challenge for topic "communication")

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17 responses to “Happy Hands

  1. What a great shot.

    My little enigma (lots of talking, not a lot of “truth” unless it’s dragged out of her) will be home next week to celebrate my (gulp) 50th birthday with me…

  2. This makes my heart hurt a little…

  3. I think Jen said it well…any time I read your posts about your daughter, I can’t help thinking about my future with my younger son. He may still be young, but my relationship with him is already developing into a similar one that you have with Abby. It’s an odd mix of love, pride and frustration when I look into his big brown eyes. She’s a lucky young lady to have such a loving mom.

  4. I don’t know if daughters ever get to the point where they are no longer puzzles for mothers to figure out. Perhaps it is the mother who eventually changes, accepts that she will always be a mystery. When I think that Nyssa & I are not communicating over the phone or instant message and that “if she were just here we could figure it out”, I eventually have to admit that this isn’t true. We could be locked in a room for eight hours, face to face, and still not totally understand each other.

    But looking at it from a different perspective, I know that I am still a puzzle to my mother. Maybe that is what makes our relationships with our mothers and daughters so wonderful in the end.

  5. Mothers and daughters have a complex relationship. I understand that completely with my two. I seek to understand and bond, but have to accept that it is not always possible.

  6. Mothers and daughters have a complex relationship. I understand that completely with my two. I seek to understand and bond, but have to accept that it is not always possible.

  7. Awwwww. You miss her because she is amazing.

  8. Or: “Peace, Mom. I love you!”

  9. I thought maybe Abby was doing a Churchill but nope, no cigar. And this isn’t a thumbs up, so she isn’t saying “all’s well.” I think this is the signal for having seen two of something. Barnacles is my guess.

  10. I love reading about parents who write about their children who are older than mine – it’s a little glimpse into a possible future. Really nice post.

  11. It’s amazing to read your writing about your girl, V. You think my kids are so little, and I think yours are so big, but really, age doesn’t matter does it? When you’re the Mom.

  12. The absence of complete disclosure is what keeps us on our toes! Says the optimist.

  13. This touches me. Does she ever read your blog? Your love for her comes through in everything you write about her.

  14. What a touching post and fantastic picture! Thanks for your words on my blog!

  15. Your little water sprite is one in a million. I know you miss her. But she’s where she needs to be, right? I can’t wait to hear what she’s up to down there.

  16. I had to pass along an article on this subject that I came across in The Christian Science Monitor. The author shares the thoughts with which she comforts herself on her daughter’s leaving home for college. (It is one of their articles on Christian Science) http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0907/p18s01-hfcs.html
    My sister’s firstborn, a daughter, is also just off to college. Having no children myself, just siblings, students, and cats, my experience with this topic is only from a daughter’s point of view. I had no idea that my mother might have been going through this then. I know my siblings were quite young then and I did worry, that being so young, they might forget me. It was hard to leave them, but the excitement of the new world took over. And the new world that you are about to immerse yourself in (NOLA) I think will do a great deal to give you back yourself. Of course its a new yourself that will be. And how amazing – all the parts of ourselves that go off into the world creating endless other effects on the world-… and on and on it goes.

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