My younger daughter is spending time here and by the week-end, my older daughter will be here as well.
Sometimes I wish they would become boomerang kids – the ones who return as adults, just for a while, until some event pulls them out again. At other times, I am happy that I see so much of them during their vacations (rather than during their periods of work stress). I get the very best then – their smiles are radiant, their conversation – intimate, yes, and at the same time shockingly honest and youthful. It becomes clear that I am of the generation that, all yoga and camping notwithstanding, is no longer at the cutting edge of the mainstream. I am a wee spring that feeds into their mighty river. They are in charge. (And that’s a good thing.)
I sit on the couch and I pick up an address book. I want to call my mother to tell her about Cross Village and I cannot remember her phone number. My daughter looks at me with wide eyes.
You still have that?
What, the address book? Yes, yes, I mean to update it… I know, it looks ratty with all the new addresses stuck in on scraps of paper…
No, I mean, you still have a physical address book? That’s so retro!
I recount all this to Ed later in the day.
Hey, I have my appointment book on line -- he tells me proudly.
Then, after a minute of introspective reflection: On the other hand, I'm totally into my rolodex.