Thinking more about my mother brings to mind our relationship.
I was just telling someone that I am not really afraid when she looks at me with no recognition. Knowing this by how many times my mother saw a dress that would “look perfect” on me. My definite, “NO!” did not dissuade her from ordering said clothes and thus clothed in Gunne Sax dresses noted the early demise of my teenage fashionable years.
Do our parents really know who we are? That is what most adult children think, yes?
As a mother of three, I see traits and characteristics in them that reflect me or their father. I don’t believe that I understand them or know them as they understand and know their own self but I am their mother and see quite a bit more or less depending on human and circumstance. This doesn’t mean that I shall dominate them with my tastes but allow them to grow and mature at their own rate.
The tantalizing relationship between child and parent – a mix of wonder and courage – can be wonderful yet frightening for those of us who crave to nurture healthy children in a safe environment.
Holding her hand as she once held my own, I remain her daughter.