Text Message

“Was it 78 degrees in Wuhan today, with a low of 59?”
“Why yes, yes it was! Why do you ask?”
“I now have Wuhan weather on my phone. Now I can see your weather every day so I won’t feel so far away from you.”

The above is a short text-message conversation my daughter had with me via Google chat last night. If anything has ever indicated her love for me, this short conversation was it.

My daughter and I have not had the best of relationships. What mother and daughter can say that their relationship is perfect? I can’t. There’s been pain and tears. At one time, I was ready to disown her. I thought she would never live the teachings I’ve spent my life pounding into her head.

She judiciously broke my heart a few times, but then healed it by redeeming acts perpetrated toward me. One of them was naming not one, but both her children in honor of me. She goes through these cycles where she thinks I am the root of all her woes, but then admits that I am a convenient scratching post. Sometimes I think I should guard myself against her… but how can I keep my guard up when both my arms reach out to embrace her?

Let me tell you about my daughter.

She is wife to a military man. That, in itself is not easy. If her husband has duty, she flies solo with kids, house, car and all issues that deal with household stuff. To say nothing of community, and the fact that, as a wife of a NonCom, she has the responsibility of the ‘junior wives’ – women married to soldiers who are subordinate to her husband. It is not easy to live in a military community, and it is not easy to ‘be there’ for all of the young women who are, for the most part, inexperienced at marriage, inexperienced at being away from home, inexperienced at being a mother.

On top of being a stay-at-home Mom – which incidentally, means she misses out of the greater world living experiences, she has nominated herself to be my secretary while I’m off gallivanting all over the place. She takes care of my mail and my affairs; she handles what correspondence I cannot handle from here, she dispatches others in the handling of my things.

She has created a beautiful home and she has goals for her family. To that end, she manages every aspect of her household: budget, meal planning, capital expenditures, the children’s education, entertainment, cleaning and laundry.

On top of that, she is perfectly aware of her own deficiencies, and she is tackling them with a vengeance. I won’t say what they are, but I will say that I am proud of her for going to battle with herself, and I’m pleased to report that she’s winning.

As if all of this weren’t enough, she’s decided to help other women overcome, or at least cope with some of the things she deals with as a wife, a woman and a mother. She co-authors a blog that talks about the difficulties of being a Mom, and how society beats women up for being imperfect when they should be perfect. To check out her blog, visit Two Moms in Sweatpants at aggervatingme@blogspot.com

She’s really quite the powerhouse, isn’t she? At one time, I didn’t see this in her, but now I do. How could I miss it?

With everything she and I have been through, and with everything on her plate now… imagine my surprise at discovering that she has a need to feel close to me?

Sometimes I’m really slow on the uptake.

Even though she and I chat nearly every day, or at least send emails back and forth, she misses her Mom. She loves her Mom so much that she programmed her phone so that, no matter that I’m half a world away, just by looking at a hand-held, electronic device, she can feel close to me. Although each trip to the mailbox might bring her something else of mine to have to manage, she will do it with diligence even though, in her heart, she wishes she didn’t have to… because not having to would mean I am physically not so distant.

“I now have Wuhan weather on my phone. Now I can see your weather every day and I don’t feel so far away from you.”

“I love you too.”

I was too choked up to type any other reply.