Mom, Don’t Say Anything

Reflection by Mary E. Latela, 7/24/2017

Ann Garvin put out some prompts this morning and they opened the floodgates of memories of my daughter starting college 15 years ago.

At the parents’ gathering, we were welcomed by the college administrators. Before the presentation, of course I say hello (and a little more) to the nice woman next to me. It was the youngest child leaving home for both of us, so I had wads of tissue in my purse. She had one of those hand-tatted hankies, probably made by her grandmother. Sometimes you just have to use that hankie.

When it was time to go to the dorm room, my daughter reminded me not to say anything as we looked at the room, made for four. Another girl was there with her mother. I snuck in a wave to the other mother. My daughter said, “You can go now.” Well, I had to go before starting to bawl.

&&&&&&&

I had to go out for an event at her college and she had been raving about her philosophy teacher. Since I teach philosophy, I was quite interested. She asked the professor the day before if I could attend and he agreed. When we arrived in the class room, she put her books on a desk and pointed over to a desk two rows back and to the left of her. I whispered, “Here?”

When the professor entered, he asked my daughter, “Where’s Mom?:” and she blushed as she pointed to me.

The lecture was fascinating. At the end, the professor asked if there were any questions. Guess what I did? I raised my hand!!!  Professor said, “Mom! What would you like to know?” I admit that I showed off a little, threw in the word “relativism” and he responded that he wasn’t sure, but he would think about my point.

When class was over, my daughter said, “Let’s go.”

Even though the professor invited to come back “anytime” my daughter said, “I can’t take you anywhere.”

About @LatelaMary

Author of 14 self-help books, five still available: Prepare Him Room, Ten Steps to Peace, Healing the Abusive Family, Moments for Mothers. Breaking the Boxes: critique of institutions vs. individuals. Work-in-progress: Memoir (Sorting out Secrets)
This entry was posted in compassion, family, herstory, learning, mystory and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Mom, Don’t Say Anything

  1. That made me laugh out loud.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s