My Mom and I were never really friends. We were more like coworkers who merely tolerate each other. You know, the "I have to work with you, but I don't have to like you." We had our good moments and before she died we became closer. I was able to love her and feel compassion for her, forgive her and respect her. But, still, we weren't really friends.
Brandi is now twenty years old and no longer living at home. Now some might feel that's the reason for this miraculous friendship. But I disagree. Somehow we became friends before. Somehow the mother/daughter disagreements didn't destroy us. Somehow we were able to overcome bitterness and resentment.
This was most apparent to me the other night. I took her out to the big discount warehouse home improvement center to get some flowers to plant on her balcony. As we walked down the aisles of rows and rows of flowers, she took my hand. Suddenly, she was a little girl again, taking my hand as we crossed the street -- she trusts me. Suddenly, she was taking my hand as we faced a crisis together -- she needs me. Suddenly, she was taking my hand as we shared an inside joke -- she likes me. And I realized she is this wonderful, beautiful woman who is not only my daughter but also my friend.
I love you, Sweet Pea!
