My daughter Olivia and I collaborate regularly and extensively, giving much of ourselves to each other and to our creative and intellectual endeavors. We started with proofreading, when Olivia was seven. When I finished an essay or an article draft, I handed her my computer and asked her to examine my words. In part, I was asking her to give me access to a particular talent she has—an uncanny ability to spot typos! She even found it fun, mostly because it allowed her to highlight my failings.

Now that Olivia is in college, the sharing of ideas is more balanced. She finishes her work and shares it so I can quickly offer constructive feedback. I give her my time and some of my ideas, balanced against the need for the work to be her own. 

In the last few years, this giving of ourselves as writers and as thinkers has also been creative. When I wrote a play in the fall of 2024, Olivia was not only my first editor and proofreader, she was also a bona fide collaborator. Her input went beyond merely checking for typos and dangling modifiers. One evening, she read over the draft and gave me feedback on specific word choices along with detailed character notes. We talked extensively about how the two characters spoke and how they should behave. When we later staged the play—Olivia helping with front-of-house and lighting—a lot of the character definition, even the direction, came from those conversations. 

Although Olivia is only entering her second year of college, our practice of giving and sharing in this particular way has led us to think about what the future looks like for us as a team. And in this season of self-reflection, we are asking: How long do we want this collaboration to continue? How long can it continue? Could it (and should it) take on new dimensions as Olivia continues to grow as a person and become increasingly independent? Does she want to give as much of her time to me as she continues to carve out a life for herself, developing her own relationships and new collaborations?

The High Holy Days ask us to consider how we want to live our lives—and while we may not have all the answers, it feels important to realize and embrace the inevitability of change. Our mother-daughter dynamic has changed a lot over time and it continues to change. As we approach Rosh Hashanah, we are embracing the uniqueness of our relationship—we don’t have to fit a particular box, and we can each decide what we give and how we give it. We don’t know exactly what things will look like in the new year, but no matter what, our partnership works because we both respect what we bring to the table. And we know we will grow from the new opportunities that lie ahead.