Mothers and Daughters

At some point, I think each young girl wants to be like her mother.

Then the game changes around age 12 and she wants NOTHING to be like her mother. Then at 32,42,52 she sees she is her mother. Hmmm,I have given this subject lots of thought.

I went to visit my mother over the holiday. She is now 84, and wanted to see both me and my brother together. This was THE TALK about where things are, what her final wishes are, and how she would like the end of life to unfold. She is in relatively good health, but figures that with a little of this, and a little of that, the wheels may fall off the bus anytime. She guides me in wisdom yet again.


My brother was all business. He has some paralegal background, and the paperwork of dying was his only agenda. He dictated what jobs he is going to do, and what he wants me to do. Mother really could care less, she just wanted us to know her wishes. I don't think he wanted to hear her real message of wanting to spare us as much pain as possible when she passes. She has lost a husband, and saw me lose one, and knows that these things can happen without warning, and family members can be tortured with the what ifs, if they have not been spoken in advance.


Not all children are trustworthy to fulfill their parents' wishes. I have seen awful fighting, rivalries, and "getting even" at the time of a parent's death. It is so very sad to see that the respect and reverance for a parent are not foremost in a child's mind, but petty egocentric behaviors prevail. Then there is the free for all for the loot. So very very sad.


Not my mother and me. We really are on the same page. I have come to know that I am rooted in her, but am my own person. She will always see me as her child, but then, I always see her as my mother. So we are even.


 I caught myself allowing her to cook and serve me, when it should have been the other way around. I rationalized that this made her feel good. Good and tired I think. I basked in the womb once more.............feeling very much loved and cared for. I know it helped her to feel our connection, which is deep and strong.  This trip, I helped her up and down, got things from the high shelf, and lifted her walker onto the curb. We went to a museum, and then shopping. I helped her try on clothes. It was good to be a helper again. We wore each other out, and left each other with a deep feeling of satisfaction for the visit. The business had been done, and no tears were shed. She still has insight and good advice for me, and made sure I didn't go out with anything dripping from my nose, or forget my lunchbox.


Until next time...........................