The Fabulous and Sometimes Mysterious Language of Mothers and Daughters

One long standing family tradition was my grandparents coming to my parents house for Sunday dinners from my childhood through early adulthood. The memories of these times range from simply fabulous times to life lessons learned and some hopefully not repeated. Of course the stories range from belly laughing funny to sternly serious and all emotions in-between. Those times come flooding back when I least expect, like today when I received an email from my mother.

A million years ago, when fancy telephones were cordless and cable television was readily available in the more urban areas (it hadn't come to my parents house yet), my grandmother unpacked her weekly recycled paper bag of treasures on to the dining room table. Books, cancelled stamps from Germany, a Pepperidge Farm German Chocolate cake, and coupons were laid out while she squinted and smoked. The cigarette ash was over two inches long and she could talk with a fairly thick German accent while the cigarette stayed stashed into the corner of her mouth, blinking, squinting and never dropping the ash.

It was quiet for whatever reason. No one had spoken, no stories were left unfinished when she said, "You know, that building used to have four doors on it."

Quiet pause. We looked at each other, my sister and I especially and I remember thinking, "What the HECK is she talking about????" My mother seemed to stand perfectly still before jumping on board my grandmother's thought train, "Oh, yeah." My mother then explained my grandmother was referring to the "old roller skating rink" that was being transformed into a new business. For years, we talked about this moment and every time we laughed about how random it seemed.

Today, when I returned from lunch I checked my email and this is what it said, "What was the name of that book....the corner of something and something?"

That's all it said.

We had no previous conversation about this and though I was taken aback for a second, I Googled it and was able to respond, "The Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet?" "Yes," replied, "That's it. Thanks."

It's only fair to also admit, I have already done this to my children and while they are male, I think this magical language does translate from mother's to children. I have texted or called them to find out the name of a movie, actor or song (Hey, what's the name of that 50 cent song with the lyric doo doo doo the underdog's on top?) that I simply can't remember, as if I have passed my mind and memories on to them. Perhaps in a way I have and it's fabulous.