"Boys are stupid, and girls become evil at this age," said the junior class principal today when I called him to change contact information. He confidentially tells me that my daughter's boyfriend is not known to be mean, only goofy. He keeps telling me to hang in there, although I've only briefly met him at a school orientation. He has a reputation of being caring yet tough at his difficult job as a disciplinarian.

The conversation gives me a lift because I know that she is being watched even though my eyes can't. When I talked to her private practice counselor today, she related to me that my daughter is sorting a few tangled feelings out during sessions. My ears are plugged, but she is being heard.

Fortunately, the Body takes over like the involuntary contractions of the heart. Today at guitar lessons, I turned to "Cat's Cradle", the old Harry Chapin song about a father's regret regarding lost time with his son. Fortunately, my instructor sensed after a couple of bars that I really needed to turn the page quickly to find another song.

The graces within life that God gives become stark in their meaning during times like this. Thank you all for your prayers. Thank you for your automatic non-judgment. Thank you for your messages of hope to me. I do have a core peace that, even though I can't be the mother to the little girl who used to want and need me constantly, God is working in her life in the only way she will allow right now. She is being seen, heard and known. One day, I'll get to enter back into that room where she will willingly allow me to sense-mother once more. The prodigal's fattened calf ... yes, it makes sense now. I'm looking forward to the party.