Just completed a 2-day long-haul trip with Anna, my firstborn daughter, a deep-thinking dual PhD candidate in Sociology and Social Work. We had long, challenging conversations about race, class, politics, identity, relationships. She shakes my complacent foundations; it’s not all easy. But she makes me think and laugh, and holds my hand, and listens. We also ate fried food at Cracker Barrel, oohed at baby clothes in the gift shop, and listened to our favorite music on Spotify for hours.
Nellie said the other day that it was hard to imagine her 7-week-old Fiona would ever teach her things. “She’s already taught you things,” I said. “Think of how differently you see the world now. A lot of what they teach, they teach inadvertently.”
And then they grow, and they teach you things on purpose, and they become your dear friend, and you cry inadvertently, just because there you are with this person you met in a hospital room almost 33 years ago, and isn’t it all miraculous?
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 130: 168 words, TOTAL = 21,509; 38,491 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.