Mother's Day Message to My Daughter

?Dearest Daphne,

You have no idea how proud I am to be your mom. Sure I cared about my career in public relations, and know your career as a member of the communications team for Philadelphia's flagship teaching hospital is a source of professional pride for you. Still, nothing has ever been more important to me than being your mom, and I know nothing will ever be more important to you than being the mother of my fabulous grandchildren, Jack and Lucy.

When Jack, about to turn twelve and Lucy, soon to be nine, told you they wanted to have a snow cone stand in front of the house, you went online and immediately ordered syrups of every possible flavor, along with cups. You already had the machine and made your own crushed ice.

More important, when I might have doubted the commercial success of this venture, you demonstrated that "go for it" spirit that builds confidence in children, at the same time ensuring their safety by standing outside your house on Philadelphia's Main line on a 90 degree day. For Jack, commercial success meant selling snow cones, even donating a few to the children of neighbors who didn't have money on them. You were generous enough not to remind your children of the cost of supplies. They repeated this venture when you and your husband Etan took the kids for a week at the beach, this time donating the money from sales to the effort in Ukraine.

Go ahead and accuse me of bragging of the not so humble variety. Be it rice crispy treats, chocolate chip cookies or granola bars, you respond with enthusiasm when Jack or Lucy asks to help them bake treats. Any time Lucy wants to have friends over for tie dying, you have all the necessary supplies on hand, and the patience to do the set up.

When you learn of a family in crisis at your kids' schools, you are the first to start a meal train, after texting the parent(s) about food preferences. Leave it to you to set up a booth for kids to make chew toys for shelter animals when Merion Elementary organized a public service day to students. You volunteered to produce the newsletter for Merion's Home School Association, when the editor decamped permanently to her beach house during Covid, and as far as I know you still do it.

Like other parents across America, you handled Covid and the hideous disruption to the lives of you and your family. You never knew for sure when the kids would be able to be in a classroom, on a hybrid schedule or doing the dreaded home schooling. What made it more complicated for you is that during Covid, you and your family moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the Main Line, went into a rental because you and your husband Etan couldn't find a house you liked, and then moved again into a beautiful home where renovations were still under way.

Your children adore you and Etan. But as my husband Dennis says, "children are basically narcissistic," and can't comprehend the tradeoffs you make to balance all the demands in your life, which includes taking Jack and Lucy to a host of after school activities. I like that you go to Hot Yoga and book club, and feel bad when life gets in the way. You're quick to play tennis with Jack or Lucy any time they ask, but I wish you had time to play your own tennis games because you're such a good player.

I know that you're hosting a Mother's Day party for Etan's family on Sunday, and feel proud of you for stepping up to the plate. Right before Jack and Lucy leave for sleep-a-way camp, I look forward to driving down to Philly to see you and your family.

Speaking of camp, I know you and Etan will be working. As much as we all expect Lucy's four weeks in the Pocanoes and Jack's 6.5 weeks in the White Mountains will provide them with wonderful experiences, I also hope you won't be so focused on missing your little ones that you won't be able to make time for yourselves.

Happy Mother's Day!

Love, Mom