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mothers and daughters

Mother and daughters, I never could have imagined the extent of the importance this relationship would someday hold in my life. The very words mother-daughter relationship conjure so many deep emotional reactions that it can be overwhelming at times. My daughters, from the moment that I saw their little hearts beating as a blip on the ultrasound, felt those very first faint flutter kicks in utero and pushed them out into the world, I knew. I held them in my arms and saw all the good that the world has to offer in their eyes. From these small moments, they were more important to me than the sum total of anything and everything else I have ever done in this world or will probably ever do. My girls are everything that has meaning in my world.

I know this sounds very 1950’s housewife of me.I am perfectly aware of the irony of it all.Just as my husband was everything I never knew I always wanted in a man, motherhood has proven to be everything I never knew I always wanted. It has grabbed hold of me and filled me in ways that I never even knew I was empty.

Sometimes, in those quiet moments when the girls have gone to bed and the house is still, that moment of the day when I can finally exhale, I catch myself elated in the fact that no matter how hard this mothering may be, at the end of the day there is no place else that I’d rather be.It is a lot of hard work and I’m learning to be a better person for these little people.They make me want to be the best me that I can be. Even when I’m at my worst, I am better because of them.

I’m sure you can understand why it pains me to realize that I have never had this relationship with my own mother, at least not from my perspective. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and I respect her, as does she love and respect me. How do I explain this? She and I are completely opposite in every way that two people can be opposite. The only thing that we share is blood and our love for one another.

It makes me wonder, if she and I started out at this point where my daughters and I are now? If so, what happened? This frightens me and saddens me in ways that I can’t even bring myself to verbalize. What if some day my daughters feel like we have nothing in common?

What if they look at me and don’t see any part of themselves? What if they love me but don’t know me? I can’t bear the thought. Mothers and daughters should share more than just DNA, there needs to be a bond of unconditional love and unwavering understanding. I am working to try and bridge the gap that lies between us but it is a slow process. I want to look at my mother and know that I am part of what fills her world with pulchritude.I want to know for certain that once upon a time, I was her everything and she was mine.

Is your relationship with your mother anything like your relationship with your daughter? How are they different?How are they similar?

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