Watching Your Kid
You never stop being a parent, right? I know this is true because I watched my mother in her eighties continue to beam with pride and also tut-tut admonishments at the things I did in my middle age.
Donna might spot me leaving the house (she basically lived next door) when I was off to MC an event and say, “Oh, is that what you’re wearing?” as she looked me up and down. Followed by, “They are very lucky to have you,” to make it all better. In some moments with your mother, you will always be fourteen.
Thirty-one years ago when my own daughter was born someone told me that the first year of your child’s life is all about attachment, and then every year after brings a little more separation. They find their own lives and you – once the centre of their world – will eventually watch that from just off to the side.
This isn’t meant at all to sound sad – I find it so joyous to see who Holly has become, the things she does, and the life she is creating. I still have the lead role in my own life, but I also love being a supporting actor in hers.
Last weekend I got to watch her literally from the side-lines doing something that I do not understand. In the last couple of years Holly has taken to CrossFit, a wild mix of weight-lifting and gymnastics performed at an intense pace. She loves the physicality and the benefits for her mental health, and there is a really great social aspect, too. Sometimes they compete as teams but this recent event was her second as an individual competitor. And I have to say for the first part of the day, to me, this just looked insane.
Brutal, even, and surely that work on the bars advantaged tall, light-of-frame women with their easy reach and light load? Though sure, the weightlifting and squats (these things are combined!) might be a touch easier for shorter strong women like my girl?
But really, all of it seemed beyond the ability of any normal human. And yet here they all were, about eighty women, able to do it.
Then I saw a look on her face which was familiar to me. The look I’ve seen at many points throughout Holly’s life. When she has been singing, or dancing or laughing with her friends, or any time she is totally absorbed in the thing she is doing and you see her face and think, “Right now you look exactly like yourself”.
I suspect many parents will know what I mean? Moments you want to capture and say, “There you are. Aren’t you wonderful.”
I sat in the stands with her friends who were there to cheer her on. I’m not so good at the cheering because generally I am too choked up with emotion to emit any sounds. But I took photos and videos, and grinned like a fool. Especially in the bit where they had to walk on their hands down half the length of the court and it reminded me that my dad, her granddad, had been a bit of an athlete and walking on his hands remained a party trick well into his life. She was better at this than anyone else in the stadium that day.
“Runs in the family,” I said, to no one in particular. And no doubt I looked exactly like myself as I said it.