Loving Your Daughter . . .


Love Your Daughter While They Are Here,

My daughter, Lynda Snyder, was a gifted observer of the human condition and a wry commentator on the quirks and foibles we create and perpetuate.  The following is one of her earlier musings.

Mothers are among the most peculiar of people.  I know because I had one. My mother’s version of the guilt trip consists of a solitary line:  “I carried you through the hottest part of the summer!” which is super good for all occasions, the supreme sacrifice.  I learned a lot of very important stuff about mothers when I was growing up.

For instance, I remember my mother telling the story of how my brother, the oldest, had been born with black hair and blue eyes.  She thought he was such a beautiful baby and had such high hopes for him.  In two weeks, his hair and eyes both turned brown.  She gave up on his handsome future.

Although the story was told as a joke, I discovered that its hidden truths affected me deeply.  I never believed that my mother thought her brown-haired, brown-eyed children were ugly; I was also never able to convince myself that brown hair or brown eyes could be attractive.  I was never able to accept anyone complimenting my hair or saying my eyes were pretty.  You see, a simple joke, because it was told by a mother, left me scarred for life.

Then one day I did the silliest thing that caused me to forget everything I knew about mothers.

I became one.

Author, Ellie Pulikonda

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