It’s been just over two weeks now since our daughter’s wedding.  She and her fiancé were married in a very moving ceremony to which they’d given much thought.  Festive food, drink, and a rollicking dance party followed.  Several dear friends and family members present had attended my husband’s and my wedding thirty-one years ago.  All five of her young cousins on my husband’s side were with her at once for the first time ever.  The setting was a lovely working farm among the rolling hills of Loudoun County, Virginia.  We could well have been in the horse country of my native Kentucky.  

As the wedding day approached, I thought back on approximately twenty-eight years of motherhood, beginning with those first days when I discovered that I was expecting.  I kept coming back to the phrase I find myself thinking at every family milestone event:  our daughter is the daughter I’ve always wanted.  

Our first ultrasound image of our baby girl was telling:  she was upside down and doing vigorous scissor kicks.  This child would likely be a spirited, energetic presence.  

In those early days, I had a vague vision of what I hoped she’d be like, and the ways I might see my beloved parents, maybe even grandparents, in her.  I hoped we’d come to share a cherished friendship, much like the one I still enjoy with my mother.  

While I had wished she’d share a love for some of my favorite things, and she has, after her birth, I soon understood that it would be wondrous to witness the many ways she’d surprise us.  

It’s been a grand adventure to watch her move through various life phases:  especially bold around a year, suddenly shy at two.  Funny from the very beginning, able to laugh at herself.  As a toddler determined to try new things with minimal assistance.  How often she declared, “Self do it!”  Quickly, it was evident that she was gifted with courage, but also with kindness and compassion.  

As she grew, my husband and I saw how her character reflected traits from both of us, yet combined in novel ways.  She became the teenager who jumped into musical theatre while learning  BC Calculus, and then the University of Virginia student who chose a career in aerospace engineering and minored in astronomy.  

We’ve been blessed with almost three decades of being parents to our daughter.  Every once in a while, when I hear her call out “Mama,” past and present versions of her collide.  I get a sort of amazingly surreal time-warp sensation.  Sometimes when my husband and I reminisce about old times, we see her there with us.  Then it hits us that she wasn’t even born yet.  Seems like she’s always been a part of us.  And she always will be.

I marvel that our daughter does, indeed, carry in her traces of those who’ve gone on before.  My father was absolutely, resoundingly, overjoyed to become a grandfather.  Papa loved everything about our daughter.  In the curve of her nose, and in her gracious, humble confidence, I see him.  And she’s her Nana’s girl, too.  My mother, the practical realist, loves her granddaughter every bit as much as my father did.  Her role, though, has always been to  be the more subdued foil to Daddy’s sunny optimism.  Our daughter shares Nana’s willingness to face, and even to find humor, in life’s bitter and difficult aspects.

With our daughter newly married, we’ve moved into another distinct parenting stage.  We’re absolutely delighted that she’s chosen a young man whom we happily welcome as a son.  They began dating in 2019, when they were both in college, but have been friends since 2014, when they met in high school drama. In their first shared theatre experience, she was among the citizens of Verona, and he played Romeo.  Our families, as drama volunteers and enthusiastic patrons, quickly became well acquainted. 

Our daughter and her new husband complement each other like colors on the color wheel.  At their wedding, I offered this toast:  May your love and respect increase with the years.  May you nourish each another, like the forest of plants you lovingly tend in your home.  May you strengthen and encourage one another, like two trees that flourish and thrive because they’re entwined together.  

And may we, my husband and I, continue to grow as good parents to both our children.  And if we get the chance one day to be grandparents, may we embrace that role with as much joy and dedication as our parents did before us.