By: Meg D
I am not sure who brought up the idea first. I think it was me; she thinks it was her. Or maybe it was one of those things that just happened organically. It is unclear, but it was determined years ago, and honestly it doesn’t really matter. What is important is that this tradition started, and we make a point to keep it going. The tradition? Mother-Daughter weekend.
It doesn’t sound that amazing, I know. To us, though, it is. I realize I am lucky to have my mother alive and healthy, but it is hard living hundreds of miles away from my parents. Especially my mom. We have a pretty normal relationship. We love being around each other. We like laughing, drinking, eating, and live music. We also realize about 5 days together is the point where we start bickering a bit. With that as our guide, we had an outline of a trip.
So, we made our plans: picked a city, exchanged dozens of phone calls and texts as we planned hotels and travel, and that’s it.
Now, we are several years in, and the trips just keep getting better. We have little or no plans when we arrive. I pick the restaurants because I am so picky and like to read reviews. She finds live music and engages all the customers around the bar in lively conversation. Usually we pick a play to see and a brewery to tour.
Boston was first. Just because I always wanted to go – I think it was because of my Irish heritage. We took a bus tour, listened to music while we ate at a pub, learned way more history than would usually interest either of us, saw Phantom of the Opera again, and ended the trip with a brewery tour. Then, hugged goodbye at the airport as we took our separate flights home.
Next came Toronto. I stayed at my first Air BnB. We were lucky enough to be down there during PRIDE week, and we met up with some of my second cousins, eh.
Philly was great too. Mom flew down, and we took a short road trip from my place in Baltimore. Saw so much art, met up for lunch with a dear friend, watched football with a bunch of Eagles fans, and grabbed cheesesteaks to go for the drive home.
And last week was NYC. It made me appreciate our time together more than ever. I really am like her – I always knew it, but this extended weekend it really hit home. She must have given me my love for cultural experiences, and brisk walking down busy streets, and enjoyment of people watching, and drinking in Irish pubs after seeing Chicago on Broadway. Because Mom and I are really alike. And that’s a good thing.
The memories are perfect. The time spent together is irreplaceable.