September Morn: New England loves September. It is our return to clarity of mornings, yellow buses huffing and puffing fumes up steep hills (delayed by Irene’s iron club) the Mark Twain Library Book Fair (Twain lived and died in our Redding woods, founding his eponymous library during his two year stay). It is all a kind of town reunion. Today the town hall area remains a magnet for water seekers arriving with plastic jugs and other assorted containers, our son amongst them. We are now showering at neighbors, washing dishes (at 8 a.m.) in their sinks and charging phones and iPads over coffee and small talk. Frankly it was more fun being the givers than the takers. More than 70% of the town is hooked up, alas not us.

The Gift of Space: No word from our daughter since she dissed me at the GYN office and I am relieved. Busy with a second round of de-skunking the dog, eschewing the Bloody Mary mix for vinegar, water and Pert shampoo, finalizing details of the exterior paint job, filling water jugs and spilling same into pottys, while trying to squeeze out (no pun intended) a living is sufficient entertainment. Our daughter often describes her need for space from boyfriends, girlfriends and mom. While listening to patients relate their frustration, anger and hurt with intrusive and insensitive moms, I see a mirror of my own behavior and inwardly flinch and feel pain. Space is a gift that benefits us all. I am happy that our daughter can find comfort in her space, her home. And that the mom finds the gift equally liberating. Nothing is more a testament to a healthy adulthood than being able to take moms and dads on an as needed basis.

© Jill Edelman, M.S.W., L.C.S.W. 2011