The Magic of Mothers and Daughters
Dianne Bourgeois
If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it.
"You're going on vacation together? But you work together. If I worked with my mother I would need a vacation away from her."
This remark came from a very nice woman who was a regular customer at my book and gift shop. Her facial expression revealed complete bafflement that I had my mother working with me several days a week and chose to spend the only week I had off each year going on vacation with her.
"We live in the same house too," I added. "I live downstairs from her."
The customer's eyes bugged out and her mouth gaped open. I was afraid if I revealed any more about the close relationship I had with my mother, the poor woman would have a seizure. Mom was standing beside me, grinning with pride.
I truly felt bad for the woman. I had known quite a few women who dreaded being around their mothers. I couldn't imagine that. Mom and I certainly had our differences but we enjoyed each other's company.
This would be our second visit to Cape Cod. On the two and a half hour drive down, Mom and I reminisced about the previous year. The weather had been picture perfect. Our room overlooked the ocean and the sand dunes, which had patches of tall grass that swayed in the breeze. The effect had been hypnotic, calming and relaxing.
This year the weather report indicated rain. The rain was intermittent during the drive down so we held out hope for sunny skies. When we arrived at the motel, the rain stopped long enough for us to unpack the car. We interpreted that as a favorable sign. After all, weather reports have been known to be wrong.
We woke up the next morning to the sound of rain—not the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops but the pounding noise of a deluge combined with the roar of the ocean. I opened the drapes and confirmed what my ears already knew; there was a torrential downpour, whipping winds, and ferocious waves battering the shoreline. According to the local weather report, the downpour would last the entire day.
Mom and I were both disappointed but we decided to enjoy our vacation despite the weather. "Let's open the drapes all the way and move the table and chairs in front of the sliding glass door," I suggested. "Then we can watch the waves."
"After we go out for breakfast, let's stop somewhere to pick up some snacks," added my mother. Mom had a notorious sweet tooth and as for me, well, I am my mother's daughter.
After our excursion into the wild weather, we returned to our motel room, soaked to the bone. We changed into dry clothes while laughing and giggling about how drenched we got while successfully protecting our precious survival supplies from getting wet too. Our supplies included cheese and crackers, sodas, and assorted pastries and candy. We also bought an Italian grinder for me, and a ham and cheese grinder for Mom. We stored the grinders in the small refrigerator in our room. This was our backup plan for supper if the rain didn't let up.
Mom laid out some of the snacks and two sodas on the table and we each took out a paperback book. We settled into our chairs, books in hand, snacks at the ready. We had a close-up view of the powerful waves smacking the shore and the torrents of rain. It was glorious!
Between reading, snacking, and enjoying the view, Mom and I talked. Oddly, though most of that day is clearly etched in my mind, I don't remember what we talked about but I know that our conversations deepened our mother/daughter bond. Rather than developing cabin fever by suppertime, we were relieved that the rain kept pouring down, giving us an excuse to stay in and continue to share this special time with each other.
The following morning, we woke to find that the rain was slowing down. We went for breakfast and replenished our survival supplies despite the weather report predicting a sunny afternoon. This included a trip to a bookstore as we were nearly finished with our books and wanted to stock up on a few more. By the time we got back to our room and unloaded our supplies, including two more grinders, the weather was clearing. We spent the rest of the day visiting favorite places, shopping, walking along the beach, and having supper at a very nice restaurant famous for its seafood. The grinders became a late-night snack.
Mom and I made our annual Cape Cod trip a tradition and we have now gone six times. The only time that we have had bad weather was that second year. But it was that stormy day, stuck inside a motel room, that we both agree was one of the most beautiful experiences we've shared as mother and daughter.
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