SubscribeA drumbeat saves the day
During these years of mothering a teenage daughter, there are fewer hugs and kisses and even fewer instances when a 14-year-old wants to do anything with a 50-something Mom. Or, as my daughter reminds me, an almost 15-year-old who can get a driving permit next year.
Our recent move to North Carolina has opened a window for us to share more time together, primarily because my daughter hasn’t built a network of friends yet to hang out with at the movies, the mall or the skating rink. But that hasn’t meant she’s been particularly eager to go places with Mom.
I love jazz and was excited to learn recently about a free outdoor jazz festival. I packed up the foldable chairs, filled a cooler with water and snacks, and invited my daughter to go along. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon and she didn’t have anything else to do so she agreed, telling me, “I’m bringing my Ipod and a book.”
We found a spot with a nice view of the stage. I was grooving to the sounds of smooth jazz; my daughter was bopping to hip-hop and rarely lifted her head from her book. By the time we had been there an hour, I noticed that she started looking up at the stage every now and then. When a drummer began playing a spirited solo, she took off her earphones, closed the book and stood to watch him play.
She put the Ipod away and for the next couple of hours we sat side by side enjoying the music. We laughed, joked and shared our opinions about the musicians. On the way home, my daughter told me she had a good time.
I wanted to hug her, but I knew that would spoil the moment.
Check out Sherry Howard’s Auction Finds blog post about jazz and black sheet music.
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I am a member of the Sandwich Generation, a Baby Boomer raising a teenage daughter and dealing with the needs of an aging mother. I am a veteran journalist, having worked for more than three decades as a reporter and editor. Mostly recently, I was an editor with the Metro section of The Washington Post.
