When I told Melisandra, my daughter, we were going to a Mother Daughter Banquet, she said, “What do you do there?”
I said, “We eat brunch and we watch a little program.” I sweetened the tone in my voice, “And, we celebrate our mother- daughterness together.” I put my hands by heart for emphasis on showing her my love.
She said nothing. She glared her reply, even started a staring showdown. (I won, of course.) She pushed me away when I tried to hug her, making sure to express she would have nothing to do with any mother-daughter sentiment. I was not surprised. At ten, she pretends she cares no more about me than the shoes she tossed off when she came home.
The banquet was at my mom’s church. When she called to invite me, I said, after I checked the calendar, it looked as if Michael could be home with the girls so I could come.
She said it is for mothers and daughters so my girls needed to come, too. “You know,” she said, “cause they are your daughters.”
“That is so true,” I said. “I am a daughter and a mother. Good point.” I laughed.
My sister was coming, too. She has twin girls, age three. I heard her say this was her first banquet with both titles–daughter, mother. She is full of sentiment like that to notice these things.
Off we went, in our dresses and sandals. We gathered around a table in a church basement for egg bake and prayer and a program about the history of the purse. It was a good excuse to be moms and daughters together.
Inspired by the letter D in the A to Z Challenge for the month of April. Scroll past the social media buttons to share a daughter story or to comment on this post.