On the Road

rainbow striped knee socks
our daughter reminds me
she’ll soon be driving

At the DMV our fifteen-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Maya, stands at the counter and signs forms, reads the eye chart, has her picture taken, and then takes the written exam to get her driver’s permit. I stand back to give her space, and as I do so, I feel a letting go. I remember watching her in an elementary school play once and feeling overcome with the sense of separation between me in the audience and her on the stage. That separation, small as it was, provided just enough distance to look at her in wonder and see (though still not objectively – a mother is never objective, after all!) the individual she was becoming. Now, in this more sober setting, I again feel a joy in retreating to the passive role of observer as Maya steps onto the threshold of what will soon be her adult life. At five feet nine inches with the posture of an athlete and an impossibly thin figure, she bears little resemblance to the vulnerable little girl I remember. But imagining her behind the wheel of a car startles me back to my protective parental role, and I brace myself for the weeks ahead when my life, and those of my husband and two younger children, will be in her hands.

the weekend over
by the bend in the road
fresh flowers