And in the midst of this, something sweet and good happened. I rested my body on my daughter's back. And in doing so gave myself over to this next stage of my life in a way that was both new, and familiar, too.
New, in that our roles are shifting. And I am transitioning along with this change that is occurring, a little bit each day. Still a parent but no longer parenting in that way where I need to be aware and invested.
Because now we are peers.
Partners in this place where mothers and daughters go as their relationship becomes that powerful connection as women warriors. Familiar because we know each other so well even as we learn each day something new about each other during this juxtaposition of roles.
And though we are truly in this present place, of being equal though not the same, I felt, in resting myself on her back - my weight fully supported by her strong spine and able legs, and full, kind heart - that I was nurtured and cared for. And I could see the future. Many years still to come, when there will be an even bigger shift and I will be cared for still. And cared for more. In that way that happens when we are older and need from our children those things we gave to them when they were young.
This is the vision that I saw. This is the feeling that I have, still.