Driving west on Route 4 in Paramus, NJ, with my 26-year-old daughter in the passenger’s seat. I hardly see her anymore (although she would say she visits all the time). It’s early on Thanksgiving Day; we’re traveling to see my mother.
When my daughter was a little girl, we used to enjoy going on adventures. But that seems so long ago, and now we’re traveling together in silence. She’s vacantly staring out the window.
Suddenly she smiles. “Is that a virtual skydiving place?” she asks.
“Yes, it’s new.”
“Well, you know, you and I have to try that out, right?”
2. Salvation
Over eight years ago, my oldest daughter became the eighth owner of “a skinny, green Fiesian with a lot of baggage.” The horse had been neglected, and caring for him changed all our lives for the better.
Token turned 20 earlier this year, and a few weeks ago my daughter asked me to take photos as she rode him. The two of them, who found each other when they needed it most, showed off the dressage moves accounting for all the ribbons that now line the walls of Cathy’s bedroom.
They happily splashed in the rain puddles in the ring.
3. Prayer
I did the crossword puzzle in People magazine today, because my daughter used to do that puzzle every week when she lived with us.
Just like I order polenta every time I see it on a restaurant menu, because it reminds me of Nonna… and eat franks and beans, and fudge marble cake, on Uncle Pat’s birthday… and shave every morning the way my Dad taught me.
Today, Advent Sunday, my Mom lit a candle at church. She prayed for the living and the dead in our family. She knows we’re all longing for home; each in our separate way.
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