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Recovery Story #36, Queen Anne’s Lace on Old Cape Cod
Is this delicate doily a graceful flower or an invasive weed? I say the first — and seeing it every summer brings back memories of walks from Nauset Light Beach with my mother, when I was a teenager.
Today I changed my sugar/overeating story series header to Recovery. It started as Addiction when I began using my words to describe my path on January 31, 2021. By Story #19 (March 2), I made it Addiction Recovery. Now, I am present and accounted for, looking ahead. This is #36; my mother had me when she was 36. Coincidence? Maybe. Certainly not planned — it evolved this way. If we’re lucky, our link to our mothers can be solid gold, never to tarnish. Our mothers shape our most pivotal years.
Picture a college girl on summer break, age 19, in shorts and a T-shirt, and a woman in a candy-striped shift dress from Alexander’s, a bargain store in Paramus, New Jersey. The dress straps are anchored with plastic buckles.
The year is 1980. The mother is 55. They are heading back in the afternoon from Nauset Light Beach, walking on the side of the road, which has no sidewalks. The occasional car hurtles by, hauling a boat in its wake.
They walk slowly — it’s the gift of leisure on vacation. No rushing. Just being.
