becoming a woman

I was in the swimming pool yesterday with my 18 year old grand daughter and she was sharing her “men” woes. I refrained from saying anything like “sing it, sister” as I think it is important for young women to hold on to illusions hope as long as possible.  I dog paddled around and fluffed my water wings as I listened.

She went through all the details while I nodded sympathetically. She could not figure out, or even understand what the heck the guys in her life were thinking or doing. There just was no logic to any of it.  She talked about what they were doing and what they were not doing, and tried to understand what exact games they were playing and what they actually wanted.   She had a long list of behaviours and conversations that contradicted themselves all over the place and had we been having the conversation around the table at the doctors Monday briefing at some psychiatric ward it would have resulted in a whole lot of cold hydro baths, shock treatments and a new order of straight jackets being put in for the gentlemen in question.

It takes quite awhile to discuss “men” and well … my fingers and toes were beginning to prune a bit.

Silence fell between us.

Then we swam a bit and reflected on the beauty of the day and let the delicious water cool us down from the humid heat of a nearly summer day in Australia.

She swam back over to me and pushed aside my air filled swan’s head so she could look me in the eye.  “Grammy,  no wonder so many women end up Lesbians.  It just makes things so much simpler.”

I swear I heard angels singing.

I think they always sing when a young girl becomes a woman, receiving all the wisdom and understanding in one crystal moment of clarity. I was glad I was in the pool so she could not see the tears in my eyes. It was very moving.

I might have to needlepoint or scrapbook the moment or something ….

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