Posts Tagged motherless daughters

Dads and Motherless Daughters

I’ve had my dad for 44 years. Because my mom’s been gone for 29 of those years, that length of time has been important to me in unique ways. He’s not perfect. But he’s been present and available for my entire life. He’s had to be Dad

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Retroactive Grief

Over the past few weeks I’ve watched friends stride through different rites of passage. Some sent their child to away-camp for the first time. Others released their youngest into the realm of college. I’ve not reached either pinnacle yet. But I recognize them to be fraught with

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Fleeing Breast Cancer, I Found a Miracle

I’ve known the month of September to be a wily foe. Perhaps her cunning is a mere protesting of the confusion that comes with bearing two seasons at once. Still, I haven’t liked her much. It was during her days that I lost my mom to breast

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Why I Said Yes to Cancer-Preventing Surgery

It’s late June, a golden-blue day wrapped in soft, honeyed rustles hinting at untold promises and glories of the summer at hand. My small children are gliding into a friend’s home, their goodbye kisses and laughter floating through tousles of hair. The sparkles fade to dust, swallowed

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Sorrow, Strangely Sweet

Life’s most tragic stories aren’t without beauty. That’s true of postpartum depression, suicide, and all forms of heartache and loss. Redemption lurks in the mire. I started this blog because of my battle with postpartum depression, when I was 34. At 15 I lost my mom to

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Rarefied Air

My family and I are vacationing in Colorado, and today we climbed Pikes Peak. Our Jeep did the actual climbing. But we successfully steered the vehicle skyward, to the mountain’s 14,115-foot summit. The 19-mile drive demands a stealthy crawl in low gear, up an increasingly steep two-lane

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My Mother’s Faith

Mom had more faith than anyone I’ve met. Unshakable faith in Christ, really. I was reminded of that recently, as I rifled through a box of nearly forgotten items from my childhood. I landed on an autograph book, a gift for my tenth birthday. Among the few

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The Bright One

Shortly after my daughter’s arrival, I considered having another baby. Syma’s birth was so triumphant, I wanted to relive it. Nevermind 10 months of little or no access to some of my favorite foods and beverages. Or those last pregnant weeks of myriad aches and severely distorted sleeping positions. Even

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A Mother Lost, a Mother Born

It’s Mother’s Day, and while I celebrate my own motherhood, I also think about my mom, who died almost 22 years ago. On the late-summer day when she gave up her brief-but-valiant battle against breast cancer, I prayed the crystalline skies would swallow my shock, that my

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