17 years ago, when my children were still in college I spent some time with my daughter, Meredith, in a doctor’s waiting room. I guess it was my attempt to hold onto whatever time I had left of my child. Somehow, I felt it necessary to be with her on that day. She is now happily married and is the mother of 2 precious children with one on the way. Thankfully, she does not smoke, nor does she have a problem with alcohol. I still don’t want to think about the sex.
I wrote this column on the occasion of that visit to the doctor.
March 1999
There’s a certain charm about a doctor’s waiting room. I’m here with my daughter for a routine checkup. I don’t need to be here, but she’s home from college and it gives me some extra bonding time.
We’re sitting here enjoying the ambience. The furniture appears to have been salvaged from a garage sale and the tile on the floor can only be described as institutional. The pictures on the wall are mostly anatomical drawings. There are lots of magazines, mostly from the 1950’s. I glance at an article on the Tet Offensive.
The television flutters with a program that especially captivates us. It’s a video on keeping fit and healthy…a perpetual “infomercial”. We’re watching as the young and old of television land move through the various stages of health and illness. I’m observing, for the fourth time, a grandmotherly type actress, feigning a battle against first stage Alzheimer’s disease. I forget how it came out.
My daughter and I are having a discussion. We’re talking about college and nutrition. I’m doing most of the talking. I don’t know when I’ll have another opportunity. I try and throw in a few tidbits about drinking and smoking. I don’t want to even think about sex. I’ve told her that I don’t want her ever to try smoking and that, if she has to drink, she should do so in moderation. I don’t think she smokes, but I suspect she will take a drink now and then. I know that drinking is a real part of college life. It sure was for me.
Picking my battle, I find a magazine article about the dangers of smoking…one that shows charred lungs, wrinkled skin and yellowed teeth…and discreetly push it toward her. She acts interested, especially in the part about wrinkles. Nineteen year olds do not want any part of wrinkles or yellow teeth.
We also talk about grades and the future. We speak in hushed tones…as people do in a funeral home. After all, you wouldn’t want to disturb the sick or the dead. We whisper about making “A’s” and “B’s” on her report card. We avoid the mention of “C’s”, since we have a rule in our house; “C” students do not drive. It’s real simple…one “C” gets you a semester off, and gets me an extra car to drive. We’ve never had to enforce the rule, but we would without hesitation, although a “C” would be eminently preferable to her having sex or smoking.
We’re just the world’s meanest parents…enforcing the need for excellence and all. It is just not right that we hold them to such a high standard, but we love our kids and want only the best for them. And that’s why I’m here, in this dated waiting room, among the coughers, sneezers and drippers, making sure everything is “up to snuff” with my little girl. I’m tolerating the old magazines and videos… praying the doctor’s techniques are more up-to-date than his furniture…enjoying the company of my 19-year-old miracle from God… this delightful woman/child I call Meredith.
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