Chosen one

When my younger one comes from school, she is brimming with all kinds of news to share, usually starting off with rating her day as good, bad, excellent or worse. All I have to do is to fine tune and just pay attention! As she rambles on the details of how upset she was to learn about her friend’s mishap to how exalted she was to get a perfect score on her test, I would empathize with matching emotions. By the end of her long narration,there is usually a more relaxed look on her face that is worth a million buck! I now know the communication that just transpired was assurance that everything was alright in her young adult world. Similar is the case with my older one, except that she usually has some interesting findings to announce from her ‘research’ world that she discovered in the privacy of her alone moments. It could vary anywhere from music, to politics to fashion to food that brings to the table discussions at length.

Come to think of it, these are not mindless talks of a teenager, but the outcome of trust and affection built over years. I nod to myself in affirmative and sigh in relief when my teenagers choose to give me that level of transparency during their toughest years of transformation. Most times, I do everything in my capacity to lend a listening ear to these sometimes lost, sometimes enlightened, sometimes needy, sometimes ‘just want to be touched’ souls. At other times, when I am not at my best mom-self, the loss of touch is felt and something is certainly amiss, for which I pay the price!


Parenting becomes a joyful ride of togetherness and mutual love when it is not just about keeping your children clothed and well-fed, rather about offering a safe emotional haven for their growing minds and shed light in the crevices. At the end of it all it only makes perfect sense to reminisce the saying, “We do not remember days, we remember moments”. Often times, we fail to give heed to the daily tidbits of life in our ever pervasive mode of taking for granted the loved ones that surround us, the companionship, the safety from our bonds with family and friends.

And if for once I were not the one my daughter chose to share her feelings with, if I were not the one to have tasted a slice of her life, what a terrible loss it would be! How grateful should I be, to be chosen by my child, by a friend, by a family member or sometimes an acquaintance. All that is needed sometimes is just an extra dab of laughter, a healing touch, a pat on the back or just mere presence. Could you have imagined how transformational it is for the ones whose lives have been touched by a chosen one and vice-verse?!


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