My daughter is growing up.  She is funny and caring and she loves to write.

Like many mother and daughters before us, our relationship is getting trickier.  Her job is to grow up and apart, my job is to help her doing that safely and steadily (isn't it?).  Those two job descriptions are, as you would expect, often at cross-purposes, or so it seems.

I have come to expect that a certain level of conflict in our relationship is inevitable and normal and to back off when I get too sucked into its undertow.  However, at times, I miss those easy days when she looked to me first for ideas, suggestions and merrily (usually) went along with them.

These days, she is exercising her birthright of controlling her own life by rolling her eyes at my harebrained schemes, feeble attempts at getting my children out of doors or socializing.

I miss the discussions most of all where we had time to talk, not just about video games, but about things she thought were interesting.

This holiday, I discovered a loop hole.  She loves to go for drives in the country and take pictures and just be alone together.  I tried to conceal my delight.  We often woke up earlier than the others and went for a little meander with our phones. We'd pick up coffee and hot chocolate and just drove to see where the road took us.

It was a relief to know that there are times when she wants to be alone with me. There are things we have in common. There is somewhere we can go,  come back to and be.