Not long ago, my friend “Susan” dropped her two teenagers off at her sister’s house and made the mistake, or so it seemed, of pausing at the door to eavesdrop on the first moments of their conversation. “Hi Auntie X!” the youths cried. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much!” Their voices crisscrossed as they began making plans for a fun afternoon together — without my friend.
Skulking in the doorway, Susan felt a stab of envy. Her children sounded so warm, so happy! Their enthusiasm with their aunt threw into painful relief the degree to which they had withdrawn from her. There was no big drama, but as the teenagers moved through high school Susan could feel herself being shunted into the backdrop of their lives. Her daughter could not stop extolling the wonderfulness of her history teacher, whose every utterance was apparently priceless. Her son spent hours talking with his friends; with her, he’d become New Englandy and taciturn.
