What We Didn’t Know

March 18, 2016

Written by Marykate O’Malley, mother of three wonderful children, Gladwyne PA

Laughing until the tears came… high school stories of course. “It was just like a movie, it was just like a song.” Songs like the theme to St. Elmo’s fire and I am at my junior ring dance, Laura Ashley black velvet and hunter green taffeta gown with puffy sleeves and a black bow in my hair. Smiling for a photograph, my friends, with our arms around each other. Or Yaz “In My Room” and I am in a cabin deep in the woods, at field hockey camp, a senior playing a mixed cassette on her boom box. “My God this reminds me, of when we were young”. Or hearing “Tomorrow” and thinking of my friend’s mother, a second mother to me, and remembering her singing it with gusto and joy about the house.

We knew everything. We knew nothing. We knew we were lucky, and found true friends who are still my closest. Solid, and strong women, good, and grounded, always true. And here we are, in our early 40’s laughing about us, then. Remembering Spirit Days, Conge’s, and Senior Day, when the senior class would cut school. We skipped classes, “surprising” the teachers who were anticipating this marked day. We gathered at a Chili’s, talked about the upcoming finals over lunch, and went home to study. Our rebellion for extra study time. Or in Avalon, NJ, making pillow people in the twin beds, and quietly descending down squeaky stairs out into the warm summer nights to lifeguard parties, and the boardwalk, starlit skies and freedom.

Or traveling on a yellow school bus to field hockey and lacrosse games, french braiding each other’s hair adorned with red and white ribbons while singing “I had a little rooster.” Or tapping our sticks in unison chanting, “We are the Heart, the mighty mighty Heart” as we approached our rival’s turf. And home games with our mothers up on the hill cheering us on. Some like my mother chasing after younger children, some chatting, others praying the rosary, moving heaven to secure a win. And one mild spring day when it started to rain during a lacrosse game and we were allowed to continue, refreshing rain that saturated our uniforms and pleated kilts. Sliding on wet grass, splashing through puddles and mud around the goal, feeling like women warriors. Relishing the chance to play like boys at a school where we curtsied, and had tea with the Headmistress, and wore ivy wreaths on our heads during award ceremonies. “Girls will be girls, but you will be ladies.” And we still are. Like our mothers, those strong women who by their example gave us all we needed to know.

We didn’t truly understand that someday we would be mothers, and our children would go to summer camp together, and know each other as Aunties. We didn’t know we would gather on the beach in Avalon and watch our children play in the surf while we build this circle around each other, a circle of trust, of community, a circle of love. This is the gift of our parents, the gift that we can now bestow. Thank you to these mothers, our mothers, they keep giving still.

Photograph courtesy of my talented friend Rachel McGinn photography who I loved seeing on the beach in Avalon then and now. I had a little rooster, you reminded me 🙂