Laugh with my mother

Luther Vandross has a beautiful song, “Dance with my Father,” that is a tribute to a child’s memories of their beloved parent.  I am definitely Daddy’s girl.  I do cherish my closeness with him but lately I make an extra effort to strengthen my relationship with my mom.  This is a welcome change.
Mom and I haven’t shared a lifelong closeness. I search my memory for moments that parallel those I share with my own daughter. They are indeed two very different mother-daughter relationships. In part to my tumultuous relationship with my mom, I work at being close with M. I want her to be mommy’s girl. I am thrilled that she helps me put ingredients in the Crockpot. We have nightly story time even if I’m exhausted.  I love our mother-daughter outings to new places, tantrums and all. 
As for my bond with my own mom, we have both genuinely put in the time and struggle to heal and renew.  What I love best is when we laugh and laugh, over the phone or in person. We laugh about my dad’s penchant for folk music, about bizarre headlines, about how my first attempt at cupcake making ended up in the compost bin.  That laughter is precious. 
At nearly 40, I am finally my momma’s girl.  

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