Surprisingly, my daughters, both in their early twenties, allow me to be friends with them on Facebook; a connection I cherish and try not abuse with over liking their posts or writing mom comments and advice. As I logged into Facebook this morning, I saw the notification that my younger daughter had changed her location from living in Meridian, to living in Boise.
I suddenly felt a slight flinch of the heart, and unexpected tears slowly filled my eyes. What is the big deal?! Boise is a mere 20 minutes from Meridian. Molly has not moved out of the state or to a different country, and I can easily call her, take her to lunch and even watch a movie at her cozy apartment.
Molly had been living at home with me, in Meridian, for about two years trying to save money, and we frequently discussed her desire to be out on her own. Leaving the safety net of family and home, learning to successfully handle her finances and daily schedule without mom looking over her shoulder all the time, is a great accomplishment.
I miss her quite a bit at times, because we had our charming little routines, such as our pastry day Sunday run, movie nights or waffle cone Wednesday at TCBY. However, I am extremely proud and happy for her and my teary eyed reaction surprised me when I read her Facebook status change. I once again realized that is often the small, mundane and less dramatic gestures in life that are capable of significantly tugging at the heart.
Last Saturday afternoon I caught the end of a PBS documentary on a historical topic that is not included in textbooks, and in fact few knew about the event. When queried why the event had remained obscure, the Historian thoughtfully replied “History is like a large tapestry, and the small, muted or less colorful threads are not always highlighted or given much attention. We tend to focus on the brighter, bold threads and tell those stories.”
An eloquent statement that applies to our day-to-day lives. The dramatic changes, such as the loss of a family members or cherished friends gains a great deal of attention. Time and experience walk us through those turbulent moments more frequently then we care to experience them, and yet we learn to toughen up and cope. I know that at some point during Thanksgiving or Christmas, I will spend time crying, grieving, as well as celebrating wonderful memories of family and friends whom I used to share the holidays with. The big, intense moments, or dramatic life altering events are the memory jolts that I plan for.
The moments I do not plan for and always catch me off guard are the smaller threads, such as reading a FB status update, a simple check of a box in a setting that changes – from living in Meridian (with mom), to living in Boise (on my own).