By Sandi Kahn Shelton
本章内容导读
我站在厨房里，看着艾莉在沏冰茶。她的脸，曾经对我是如此的坦诚，如此的信任，可现在却将我拒之千里。我努力地想找一些有意义或是贴心的话对她说。
当其他的母亲和女儿不知所措时，我们却依然保持着密切的关系。
我们每次出去，几乎无话不谈——外出游玩，成了我们母女之间的秘密，对此家人与朋友都不知道。
My daughter Allie is leaving for college in a week.Her room is cluttered1 with shopping bags filled with blankets，towels，jeans，sweaters.
She won't talk about going.
I say，'I'm going to miss you.'and she gives me one of her looks and leaves the room.Another time I say，in a voice so friendly it surprises even me：'Do you think you'll take your posters and pictures with you，or will you get new ones at college？'
She answers，her voice filled with annoyance，'How should I know？'
My daughter is off with friends most of the time.Yesterday was the last day she'd have until Christmas with her friend Katharine，whom she's known since kindergarten.Soon，it will be her last day with Sarah，Claire，Heather …… and then it will be her last day with me.
My friend Karen told me，'The August before I left for college，I screamed at my mother the whole month.Be prepared.'
I stand in the kitchen，watching Allie make a glass of ice tea.Her face，once so open and trusting，is closed to me.I struggle to think of something to say to her，something meaningful and warm.I want her to know I'm excited about the college she has chosen，that I know the adventure of her life is just starting and that I am proud of her.But the look on her face is so mad that I think she might slug2 me if I open my mouth.
One night—after a long period of silence between us—I asked what I might have done or said to make her angry with me.She sighed and said，'Mom，you haven't done anything.It's fine.'It is fine—just distant.
Somehow in the past we had always found some way to connect.When Allie was a toddler，I would go to the day-care center3 after work.I'd find a quiet spot and she would nurse—our eyes locked together，reconnecting with each other.
In middle school，when other mothers were already lamenting4 the estrangement5 they felt with their adolescent6 daughters，I hit upon a solution：rescue raids.I would show up occasionally at school，sign her out of class and take her somewhere—out to lunch to the movies，once for a long walk on the beach.It may sound irresponsible，but it kept us close when other mothers and daughters were floundering7.We talked about everything on those outings—outings we kept secret from family and friends.
When she started high school，I'd get up with her in the morning to make her a sandwich for lunch and we'd silently drink a cup of tea together before the 6：40 bus came.
A couple of times during her senior year I went into her room at night，the light off，but before she went to sleep.I'd sit on the edge of her bed，and she'd tell me about problems：a teacher who lowered her grade because she was too shy to talk in class，a boy who teased her，a friend who had started smoking.Her voice，coming out of the darkness，was young and questioning.
A few days later I'd hear her on the phone，repeating some of the things I had said，things she had adopted for her own.
But now we are having two kinds of partings.I want the romanticized version，where we go to lunch and lean across the table and say how much we will miss each other.I want smiles through tears，bittersweet moments of reminiscence and the chance to offer some last bits of wisdom.
But as she prepares to depart，Allie's feelings have gone underground8.When I reach to touch her arm，she pulls away.She turns down every invitation I extend.She lies on her bed，reading Emily Dickinson until I say I have always loved Emily Dickinson，and then she closes the book.
Some say the tighter your bond with your child，the greater her need to break away，to establish her own identity in the world.The more it will hurt，they say.A friend of mine who went through a difficult time with her daughter but now has become close to her again，tells me，'Your daughter will be back to you.'
'I don't know.'I say.I sometimes feel so angry that I want to go over and shake Allie.I want to say：'Talk to me—or you're grounded9！'I feel myself wanting to say that most horrible of all mother phrases：'Think of everything I've done for you.'