Privilege Blog

Pictures Of You, Or, Saturday Morning At 10:27am

My son is back in New Jersey. My daughter and he went to the U.S. Open on Thursday night. Nadal vs. Verdasco. Had a great time.

I texted to ask where they were sitting, thinking maybe I could spy them, up high in the stands. That’s the perspective of a mother, right there. Yes there’s a world-renowned sporting event, yeah the world’s #1 player is thwonking a little ball with a racquet, sure celebrities abound.

Just show me my kids.

As you can imagine, since they sat all the way up by the big live action screens, cameras might have scanned them, once. Not even my daughter’s red hair stood out.

This is how it’s supposed to be. They are too far away, in a crowd, but I know exactly what they look like. I can see my daughter’s ponytail, her fair skin, her big smile. She usually tilts her head up to laugh. My son’s newly broad shoulders, bent over to place his elbows on those bony knees, his blue eyes. A growing capacity for witticisms. Smooches to you both, my original punkins.

They will be glad to hear that I am fine. In all honesty, I don’t need them to be here. Nor on TV. This is how it’s supposed to be. The day is lovely, the birds are noisy, and I think I might go shopping.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. To anyone who may have lost someone on 9/11/2001, we will all be thinking of you

28 Responses

  1. You break my heart with these perspectives, the mother's view. I always call mine after reading them. I'll do so now.

  2. Oh yes…my husband will come home with the little guy full of stories about anything other than what I wanted to hear I am practically screaming on the inside 'Get to the part about MY SON!!'

    I used to be the only person I was that interested in!

  3. Your post reminds us again why those last calls were made, to say I love you, no matter what comes. Thank you.

  4. One of mine called last night with the results of some tests re a breast lump, the second in three years. Like the previous one, it was nothing beyond several weeks' worrying, but she burst into tears not simply with her own relief but with overwhelming compassion for those who wouldn't get such reassuring news, those whose place she'd shared for a handful of anxious days.
    All I could say through my own tears is what you've intimated here — it's always there, what a mother worries about, but for now, we have to celebrate what we have and try our best to pass it along.
    Thanks, Lisa, for your mother's eye view today, especially.

  5. Your writing is simply beautiful. Mothers wish to be there, somewhere around their kids. Today I was talking to my older one; making questions like how did your evening go and what are your plans for Saturday? She calmly replied, that she does not want to tell me everything. This is clearly taking distance from her parents. Still it is new for me. Was it only yesterday, when she bursted and shared everything with me! She will survive without me worrying. Maybe I will too.

  6. Absolutely the perfect perspective to have. I've looked for those familiar faces at Pac 10 football games. Can't help it. The camera on the other side of the field just might focus on what I see as beautiful and camera worthy if they were smart and on top of their game. :) As always you say it so well. :) xoxo

  7. My darling college freshman came home yesterday for not quite 24 hours. We ate a sandwich together and picked up some Gatorade at Target. He went to meet some friends in town from other colleges. He left this morning with a duffle of clean clothes and plans to see us in a little over a month. Last night, I slept the best I'd slept in weeks. Thank you for standing in the light on the other side of the tunnel!

  8. Thank you for your wise words. my only child leaves home tomorrow to start her higher education.I think its a bigger step for me than for her.I always said that my job was to teach her to fly on her own but now we come to the crunch,I am lost.I will keep on reading your blog and that of the girls (Mette,FF,duchess etc)the glimpses of your lives will cheer me up.Liz

  9. My mother once recognized me in a blurry magazine photo — even I didn't know it was me till she pointed it out!

  10. What a great post Lisa – oh so true….my heart just knows what you mean. Hope you had a fabulous weekend. x

  11. Awww, so lovely. My "baby" is coming home a week from today. Haven't seen her for more than a year. We talk almost every day, but that is the downside of living on the other side of the world.


  12. A wise friend reminded me that the young adult stage is not the "end" of something, but that there are many good times ahead to look forward to. It is really amazing to see what neat people our children become.

  13. Beautifully written Lisa.
    When my children go to hockey games I look for them in the stands too!

    The letting go is difficult…at least it was and is for me.
    and now I have been blessed with a divine grandchild.

    Hope that you had a fun time shopping!

  14. Sometimes when I am driving away from my mother to my new home in a new state with my new husband (all only a few months new) I force myself to think again and again, this is how it's suppose to be. We grow up and we leave. Of course we do.

  15. Lovely post. I love it that you looked for them in the crowd and didn't see them but saw them anyway.

  16. I added myself to follow your blog. You are more than welcome to visit mine and become a follower if you want to.

    God Bless You ~Ron

  17. Dear Skye Peale/Lisa,
    I have done a little blurb about my parents in the comments part of my blog dated 12 Sept in answer to your query about what they are like.

  18. Sadly, yes, this is how it is supposed to be. In today's modern society families are often spread apart geographically. It wasn't so long ago that this wasn't so. You gain something you lose something. Sometimes I wonder if we've all lost more than we've gained.

  19. QBS – Some day in real life.

    agirl – Then my work is done:).

    Janet – :).

    Barbara – Thank you so much.

    Suburban Princess – Yes, how many soccer games did I watch where all I saw was the handsome center midfielder:).

    Duchesse – No, thank you.

    mater – Oh I am so glad that your girl is OK. She must be quite something, if in that time she was still compassionate for others.

  20. mette – Thank you. Mothers do wish to be there, somewhere around their kids. I think our concept of "somewhere" simply expands over the years.

    Pink Martini – Thank you! Yes, let's train those cameramen better, don't you think?

    Lori – Thank you. Hope you had a nice weekend too.

    Town and Country – Laundry is such great therapy. I did my son's before he went back too.

    Liz – Your daughter will love it, I am sure. And it is disorienting at first, but we figure it out, having them gone.

    WendyB – That is a wonderful story. It's like there's mom vision or something.

    Semi – Thank you. Hope your weekend was good too.

  21. Tish – How old is your girl? Somehow I thought she was, in fact, still a baby:).

    Genuine – I'm nodding in agreement.

    Hostess – Your granddaughter is so lovely. Seems this looking for kids in the stands is way more shared than I knew.

    Hannah – You leave, but then, maybe, you find your way back. I wish you much luck in your new endeavors.

    Susan – Thank you so much.

    The Old Geezer – Thank you.

    FF – Thanks!

    Anon – I know. I know. I would be lying if I said I didn't hope that they both come back to California some day.

  22. Even as a (very) new mother, I can already understand what you must feel with your children being so far away. I already dread the day when he leaves home (even though I certainly agree with the idea it is supposed to be that way). Now I understand why my parents are so grateful I moved back to my hometown … one out of three children isn't that bad. And of course now having a grandchild down the road must feel like they struck gold. Everything changes when you become a mother … and it makes it so incredibly clear why your mother is/was the way she was. I count my lucky stars too that she cares enough to be that way.

    Thanks for a great post. Haven't commented before but have been reading for a while.

  23. Lisa, do they read your blog? So funny, you know what they look like, but are still itching to see their faces :-)

    Don't feel badly that you couldn't spot them in the crowd – I was at the old tennis center at Forest Hills for the Open and someone was shot in the stands right across from us and we couldn't see it!

  24. Not to make this about me, but somehow this gives me so much to look forward to with this parenting business – thanks.

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