It’s official. I’ve become my mother.I’m not going to take credit for this line. Even though you might see it on nightshirts, Momblogs, bumper stickers, post-its and calendars - it’s from the 1986 movie “About Last Night,” adapted from a play by David Mamet. The character has just finished hosting and clearing away her first Thanksgiving in her own home. The dishes are done, the leftovers are put away and the carcass is in the trash can. She turns to her friend, wipes her hands on her aproned hips and announces, "It's official. I've become my mother."
I've had this moment many times: Over a kitchen sink and a baby's crib; at a door waving goodbye to a kindergartener, a teenager, a grown man. It's a flash of memory where I suddenly change places, picture myself on the other side, looking back. It's happened when I reach into my purse for my wallet and remember that I have fastened it with a rubber band. It's happened when I put the groceries in the trunk and spy that extra pair of shoes for days when my feet hurt.
It happened the first time when I held our first baby, cradling his head in my hands. I looked into his eyes and suddenly I saw my own mother, holding me the same way. Only I was the baby. I saw her eyes glowing and her face laughing. I felt her gentle, up-and-down rocking, my toes burrowing into her softness. It was a moment of connection, not only to my baby, but to my mother. It's a moment I'll remember forever.
More to come......
