I danced with my mother. Not literally…but figuratively we went round and round and round. She always knew I loved her and I knew she loved me right back. I made sure of that. But we aggravated the heck out of each other more than I care to admit. We were still moving in that circle when she died rather suddenly at the age of seventy-eight. By that time, my own daughters were well on their way to dancing with me.

My older daughter was very pregnant with my mother’s first great-grandchild and couldn’t come to her grandma’s funeral. I didn’t bring my younger daughter either because she was only nine and in school. I traveled to mom’s funeral alone half the way, meeting up with my Aunt Rosie in the Charlotte Airport for the last flight in.

I have good girls. They are as different as night and day and are often like oil and water, but deep down they love each other because they are sisters. I wasn’t always a very good mother to them. There was that long stretch when I was deeply depressed and nearly non-functional. I drank too much and I took too many prescription drugs. When I overdosed, it ripped the fabric of our relationship and I feared I would never, ever get them back.

We danced our own dance. We went round and round and we didn’t know how to reach each other. I hurt them in ways I couldn’t even begin to fathom till I got well. Then I had to rebuild their trust in me. It was hard, painful work. There were times I was absolutely certain they hated me. But they didn’t really. I wasn’t the only one who had to learn who this new version of me was.

I watch Daughter #1 with her kids. I watch her face some of the same issues I faced and she handles them so much better than I did because she has a wonderful, stable marriage she isn’t also struggling to fix. I love watching her with the girls. Big is learning to drive. She is tall and athletic…a swimmer. She is bright and accomplished and dedicated. Little is part mini-me…part mini-mom. She is petite and eclectic…artistic and sensitive…bright and compassionate. She is a little shooting star.

Last night, I sat at swim practice with Daughter #1 and talked for a couple of hours. It was the first time in a long time that I felt like I didn’t have to hold my breath out of fear I’d say or do the wrong thing and not be the mom I should be. That is baggage I am happy to set down. I knitted while we chatted. There was a warm, easy acceptance that flowed between us and I realized I could relax now. We’re ok. It was a long storm, but we weathered it. We’re better with each other. My heart felt full.

Her kids are older now. She’s had some experience with life that she hadn’t had back when I let them down. I think she gets me a little better these days. We’re all a little older, a little wiser, a little softer. I think now, our dance is sweeter.

❤️

“”Behold, everyone who uses proverbs will use this proverb about you: ‘Like mother, like daughter.’”    Ezekiel 16:44 ESV