In the space of a couple weeks, Camille learned to make fried rice, sticky rice, pandan mochi, Nanaimo bars, and naan bread with her grandma. Meanwhile, we’ve all been on the receiving end of homemade wontons and bok choy in chicken broth, crepes with blueberries and whipped cream for breakfast, fresh salmon with veggies and rice for dinner. It’s food that is delicious, familiar, and nourishing as only a mother’s/grandmother’s can be.
The Pacific Northwest has been all of the things I wanted for the first phase of our trip: comfortable, relaxing, homey without being home. I am soaking up the views of the tall trees, mountains, and water, and letting them wash away the residual stress from last week’s move-out push.
With our ample free time, and with Camille now old enough to be interested in things I did in my youth, I’ve indulged in a few nostalgia tours. Last week, I took her to see my high school, Crofton House. Most of the facilities have been significantly upgraded since I graduated 29 years ago, but a few spaces have stayed exactly the same: the art room, the chemistry lab, the auditorium. Standing again on that stage, I remembered dozens of early mornings practicing and performing silly and sublime skits for our weekly Student Assemblies. It was a special time in my life when I learned to be both comfortable and confident in who I was.
I don’t know if an all-girls private school is in Camille’s future, but I hope we’ll find a place for her that is as nurturing and challenging as my school was for me. There was a time in my younger adulthood when my past didn’t seem as important as my present. As I get older, it means more to revisit past chapters and see how they shaped me, especially now that I’m making decisions on my daughter’s behalf and feeling the weight of that responsibility.
