Mothers and Their Daughters

Sometimes there can be a mere 15, 16 or 20 years between their ages. But, if things work out right, they become best friends in time - always there for each other.



It starts off before the womb with a spiritual commitment to come here to learn from each other. Mom cares for that baby girl and helps her to grow. At some point the tables turn and the younger becomes the older, caring, carrying, loving and supporting. That's the way it's supposed to be.


Walking slowly because the new younger one can't walk that fast. She needs her cane now and has to guage her steps, much like the new older one did when she was young. Going from point to point - holding onto the couch, then steps to the chair, crawling because sometimes there wasn't anything tall enough to grab on to in order to steady this new thing called walking.


Yes, the tables turn sometimes. And, if we are lucky, we will have the opportunity to enjoy returning the care and the love given to us as infants and toddlers, teenagers, young adults and far beyond. Because again, if we are lucky, our turn comes and our telephone rings because someone needs to know that we're feeling okay today.

If we're lucky, they've got the time to sit and chat because you want to share some of the stories from your 90 years. You want to talk about how much things have changed and how much better they were when you were young. That special dress that your father bought for you from that fancy store cost $7.00, but it may as well have been $1 Million. And you felt like $1 million in it. It fit you like a glove and you were Miss It for that day. Someone has to hear those stories. Someone has to know who you are and what you've done because after all you had a life before you became a mother - and during and after. You want someone to laugh with, someone to know that you love them and they love you.

You want to know that you did a good job because you sacrificed 20+ plus years of your own life for this person. But, you don't care about the sacrifice - in fact you don't even consider it to be a "sacrifice." It was your life and you felt blessed to have this person in it to share it with. You did your best to tell them of the world and you are so grateful to know that person is living their life with joy and happiness.

It warms your heart when they call and say "thank you for everything that you've done for me." They look back and understand why the room should be clean, why things should be organized, why it was important to keep any commitments they made. They see clearly how those dance classes or that one little trip to the museum enhanced their life. What they thought was nagging was really love - they realize that now. They were being given lessons to help them prepare for their own independent lives.

They realize that you couldn't afford to bring them on vacations to exotic far away places that their friends would return to school with every fall talking about. It's okay because you picked up a book at the five and dime because you thought they'd like to read it. Occasionally, there was a new doll that you could make all kinds of new clothes for from scraps and old clothes.

The sandwiches you made were special. And no one in the world can cook food like you do. There was something about the way you made it. You remember the taste of pure love in everything even if occasionally it was a big pot of beans because that's all there could be.

It's their turn to carry you if need be. It's their honor to do for you what you did for them. They give you a mother's love.