Always Learning

I learned something last week at the expense of my daughter.

I had always felt that I disappointed my mother. I was 31 when she died and I hadn't really ironed my life out by that time.

The other night after an emotional discussion with my 32 year old daughter, she blurted out that she thought I was disappointed with her. At the time it didn't even fit what I was thinking. But it wasn't until the next day when I pondered the thought that my eyes were opened to how my mother must have viewed me at that age. There is absolutely no hint of disappointment as I consider her life. I just like her.

And now instead of focusing on how little I had accomplished before she was taken, I remember how much my mom liked me.