Children say a a million things to parents during a lifetime; some loving, some hurtful. We stick together with a special kind of glue. Not crazy glue but a different brand. Call it love glue. Very adhesive, this love glue. No matter what words are spoken in anger, they’re always taken with the proverbial grain–sometimes box–of salt. Through the terrible two’s that lasts until maybe eighteen, and “you’re not the boss of me” stage and on and on until daughter goes into role reversal and becomes me. Funny and charming. I think, “I’m capable” and she’s says, “be careful,” at every turn.
But the words I treasure are on a small plaque she gave me some years ago. YOU ARE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS.