"I would never do that to you!" I raged. "What is wrong with those people?" I asked rhetorically. My daughter looked at me like I had two heads which confused me further. Here I raged for her and she's annoyed at me.
On the morning of my daughter’s 18th birthday, 9/11, as everyone sat riveted to televisions everywhere, she knew the day had come
I feel angry that my Dad wasn't there to protect and guide us through the mine field of Mom. I feel angry that my Mom loved my sisters more and better than she did me.
Why I think my daughter is a better mother than I was.