Brinng! Brinng!

Leaving home these days has changed. Cell phones have made calling home, E.T. de rigeur. I mean, if we call each other there is no charge, and even if we don’t call each other, we have an awful lot of minutes on our plan, and everything after a certain hour is free. I suppose she saves these free minutes for her friends when I am long asleep. And then there is text messaging, which I read in Cosmo Girl is far less expensive than either calling or emailing—the cost of running the computer less than the cost of the text messaging. And besides, we have unlimited text messaging on our phone plan. Then, there is Skype. There are times I call my daughter and see her, as if she were in the next room—which, of course, she is, except that the room is a thousand miles away. I’ve ceased being a helicopter parent and begun my role as helicopter pad.

Perhaps the notion of independence has to be rethought with the advent of all of this technology which links us intimately and seemingly, guiltlessly, to one another.

It has taken me some time to acclimate myself to having one child less in the home. Of course, the one away is no longer a child exactly, but it is impossible to consider her as anything other than my child. When I see her, I see her from the beginning, and it is very difficult to see her only as the adult in process. It helps me understand my own parents to consider this: despite being sixty years old, my mother still conceptualizes me as a child. This is a problem for both of us. And perhaps my consciousness of this reality will make it possible to know my daughters differently, and learn to see them as other than my child, and see them as grown up loved ones.

In the meantime, I remain occupied with phone calls and text messages and email attachments. But I’ve learned that my daughter’s generation don’t email: it’s just too retro. And I’m blocked from all of their facebooks and my spaces.
Anyway, I’ve spent the day listening to Opera. I never have learned to appreciate opera, and I don’t understand very much about the art and techniques of opera, but I have had a wonderful listening day. I don’t know what I’m listening to other than it is opera, but I’ve had a happy listening day.