Of A Malaysian Flight, “The Eagle Has Landed,” and What Never Was …

Our youngest daughter, a high school freshman, returned home from Japan yesterday morning. She was gone for eight days. While happy for her to travel to and learn about life in another country, we all remained worried and nervous.

Unbeknownst to our youngest daughter, and on the same day she left for Japan, a Malaysian flight


Of Daughters, Bloodlines and The Survival of Humanity …

One of the most exciting things about being a daughter is that I received the charge to carry forth the lineage of both my mother and my father. Not only have they achieved immortality in that they live on in my memory, but I, in being a woman held the capability of giving birth. And with this I have delivered three children, all girls, into this world.

Much is said about men and carrying on the name of a family. A name is but a name. We can change


Of Life, Revelations, and Our Differences That Bind …

Not a day has passed during the three weeks since posting my last blog that I have not felt guilty for failing to hold to my schedule of blogging.

It is a promise I give to myself, and a responsibility I maintain as a published writer.

The nagging feeling that has haunted me now abates as I write this post.

But what occurs when life happens and disrupts our goals and the tasks we have set our energies to?

What do we do when


Of Mothers, Daughters and Cracking Open the Pomegranate…

A fruit of both the body and the soul, the spirit and heart, the pomegranate casts a net long and wide, deep and with breadth stretching into those areas of life perceived not with the eyes but with inner knowing that comes with age and experience.

The relationship between mothers and daughters is as old as humankind and time.

What could Persephone have been thinking when


Of Mothers, Daughters and The Quality of Mirroring…

Moments after a child exits the women, the obstetrician, or midwife cuts the umbilical cord linking mother to child.

Male children enter a journey of maturation into adulthood that ideally includes a father, or male guiding and supporting them.

As with all children she ushers into life, the mother of a female infant lays the baby upon her chest, nestles and feeds her, but unlike with sons, the mother serves as her daughter’s guide from birth into womanhood.

Who better than a man to teach and nurture a boy into manhood?

Likewise, none but women can best assist a girl in navigating the wilds of growing into a wise, compassionate, and prudent woman.

And yet, theory and reality, as with many life dimensions, often diverge.

That for which we hope often gives way to the probabilities based upon the facts of our present reality.

Many women and mothers have raised sons into excellent and wonderful men.

Likewise many men have nurtured daughters into women any parent or person would be proud to call daughter.

And yet one fact remains.

The umbilical cord attaching mother to daughter,


Of Daughters, Mothering, and The Willingness to Turn Inward…

One of the most difficult aspects of being a mother is the requirement of self-reflectiveness.

As mothers we need to be able to look back upon ourselves, most particularly our time as children, and recall the difficulties and fears we faced in order to remain connected with our children.

Our willingness to do this is most particularly effective in nurturing our daughters.

“[D]aughters can model a great deal from a mother who is self-aware herself,” says Juanita Johnson in, Know Thyself First(Part 6 of Our Mothers, Ourselves: Mother-Daughter Relationships)

I address this at length in the blog post, Of Daughters, Actions and Self-Awareness.

While sons are


Of Daughters, Healing and Living with Intent…

The most difficult aspect of raising our middle daughter has been the clarity of self that her presence in my life has delivered.

From the moment I realized my water had broken–I had been lying in bed–to her entrance into the world 45 minutes later–I pushed only 3 times–to when the nurse handed her to me and I placed her to my breast she had mirrored aspects of myself long hidden and yet to make their existence known.

When arriving home 12 hours later and preparing to feed her, our middle daughter, who exudes


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