It was plain to see I was not good enough for her eldest, her favorite, son. Anxious, anorexic, and worse, of French Canadian descent; not a suitable match at all. Yet we all bumbled along for nearly a decade, during which I made things so much worse by refusing to marry and dragging him overseas.
Eventually her son and I married, a small non-family event in a foreign city. Each summer we gathered in the US for a couple of weeks with his two brothers and their partners, a gang of adult children with parents resigned to grandparenting only dogs.
She told me she had a dream about our daughter, a curly-haired golden girl, at last, for this mother of three sons. As we departed that summer, as I was struggling with extreme “morning sickness”, she whispered into my ear: “seek the wild woman within”.
Those words changed everything. We met at a new level, where women become mothers, and see the world differently.
Now, as the mother of her favorite grand daughter, I was more than acceptable. And 20 years later, as she lay breathing her last, I held her shoulder and whispered into her ear: “seek the wild woman within”.
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