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Plenty of sunshine Thursday before rain arrives

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‘Seniors for Seniors’ program in New Orleans is catnip for the soul

<p>I recently attended a bridal shower in Philadelphia with my daughter. I skipped out of town early, looking forward to having a whole hotel room to myself, my book and my tormented mind. When my daughter finally arrived, I was uber-excited to see her. Now that she&#8217;s married we rarely get to have girl time.</p><p><em>And</em>, she went and got a stinking cat, to which I am hugely allergic. <em>Which she knows and did anyway.</em> I think we can all detect that not-so-subliminal message: Felines translate to abbreviated surprise maternal visitation.</p><p>She&#8217;s crafty.</p><p>I had a list of activities: We&#8217;d go to dinner, have drink, snacks, more drinks, and shopping! But if my schedule was jam-packed with all these hijinks, why-oh-why was she hauling a crate of files and a laptop into my haven of a hotel room?</p><p>&#8220;Mom. We can have a quick dinner downstairs. But then I have to work for the rest of the night.&#8221;</p><p>Shoulder drooping, I asked: &#8220;It would be very bad for me to go out without you, wouldn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p><p>She flung what she refers to as her &#8220;icy glare of resentment&#8221; across the room in my direction, and I had my answer.</p><p>&#8220;Well, at least run to Target with me. I forgot underwear.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Fine. But that&#8217;s all for the fun and games. I&#8217;ll be up until midnight as it is.&#8221;</p><p>She knows me. Target really does classify as &#8220;fun and games.&#8221;</p><p>Despite her working all night, we had a spectacular weekend. As she&#8217;s gotten older, I don&#8217;t grate on her nerves as much as I used to, although I can still annoy the crap out of her simply by &#8220;sneezing theatrically.&#8221; And God help us all if I talk with my mouth full. Especially if its full of something colorful, like cherry Jell-O or blue Pixy Stix.</p><p>She still sighs deeply when I tell her what I interpret as a juicy story, which probably is only titillating to me.</p><p>She&#8217;ll say: &#8220;Why do you even care, mom?&#8221;</p><p>The answer: Because I care about gossip. That&#8217;s why. Stories of psychic mediums, or a Real Housewife&#8217;s astonishing divorce (I am talking about you, Luanne), or the high school Mean Girl&#8217;s wedding, tend to bore her. But hilarious anecdotes about my childhood shenanigans or legendary tales of her grandparent&#8217;s lives absolutely delight her.</p><p>She&#8217;s hard to read. Some days she&#8217;s Tolstoy, other days, Dr. Seuss. My daughter is a prism of many colors, and it&#8217;s hard to know what color she&#8217;ll be when there&#8217;s a full moon or the barometric pressure increases.</p><p>Still, I adore her.</p><p>It&#8217;s true; I&#8217;m more her daughter, and she&#8217;s more my mother. She certainly is more mature than me, much less judgmental and generally better put-together than I. She&#8217;s a Rubik&#8217;s Cube, and I&#8217;m a Slinky. She certainly wouldn&#8217;t forget her underwear for an overnight trip.</p><p>She finished her work, and, as I was drifting off to sleep &#8212; because I have to tell you, those Hilton mattresses must have straight melatonin sewn into the threads of the sheets &#8212; she whispered to me across the bed: &#8220;Thanks for being with me this weekend. You really are a good mom.&#8221;</p><p>I felt tears prickling my old, wrinkled eyes.</p><p>She really does love me.</p><p>I knew it.</p><p>Even though I was playing with my hair over dinner and she reprimanded me. She raised me right.</p><p>She may be a complicated Rubik&#8217;s Cube: intense, serious and sometimes puzzling, but I will forever be her Slinky &#8212; crazy, tangled, but reliable. And I will consistently snap back to the first step of where I belong: always her mother. Always.</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck, of West Pittston, is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: A proud mom moment during a weekend with my daughter