Looking back at my expectations as a young wife and mother, I anticipated raising my my oldest daughter and future siblings with my husband at my side. In my childhood, I had been “trained” as a “mother-to-be” in the traditional family style. Ironically, as I look back, I realize despite my “training”, I could never fully achieve success in that role because I was a product of a non-traditional family.

At six years old, I lost my biological mother to leukemia and without any discussion or insight, I was heralded off, along with my only sibling, a brother, to live with my maternal grandparents whom I barely knew. Life with them would turn out to be my first step towards a non-traditional life experience. Memories of my mother would soon be lost time.

At nine years old, my maternal grandmother would suffer a severe heart attack, limiting her function. Once again, without discussion or insight, I was transformed into a nine year old “housewife” expected to assume the responsibilities of the family laundry, family meal preparation, household cleaning, and yes, my homework.

So, when the time came, as a young adult and new mother, I vowed my children would not suffer the loss of their childhood to assume adult associated duties. In the course of twelve years, I was divorced, the mother of two daughters, and struggling to determine my “new” role as a single parent. A role that included financial struggles despite full-time employment, indignation, frustration, and humiliation at the confines of the state child suport enforcement agency and their lack of enforcement, trying to provide safe environments for my children at home, school, and child care, and all while trying to impart love and security to my girls.

Finally the day arrives … a day I longed for but could not always envision. A day when I could feel some sense of fulfillment and joy. A day when I could look around and take in the excitement, relief, and reward of seeing my daughters reach womanhood with strength, integrity, beauty, intelligence, and success.

My elation is overwhelming. I made it! All the sacrifices I made including, but not limited to, curtailing my life to dedicate my time, love, focus, and energy to them has truly paid off. I am celebrating the successful results of both girls reaching adulthood. My oldest has a successful career in New York City, is single with no children, and my youngest is headed off to college on a full academic scholarship. Sounds great and sounds like I’ve done a fairly phenomenal job as a single Mom, right?

Recently, I received an email from my oldest daughter who assured me her issues and concerns have merit not only with her but my youngest daughter, as well. My youngest daughter has never addressed any of this. I will spare you the details but the jist of her complaints were solely and fully directed at me, stabbing me with verbal insults, innuendos, and accusations criticizing my performance as a mother and suggesting I seek therapy.

I am lost for explanation and devastated! I am confused and hurt beyond words. What event(s) precipitated this incomprehensible rage and how have I missed its apparent growth?

For consolation and insight, I shared this “assault” with a very close friend, an outstanding mother. To my disbelief, she, in turn, shares a similar incident which occurred with her oldest daughter recently. She too, was stunned when confronted with her grown daughter’s tirade.

We have since drawn a similar conclusion about its source and our daughters need to affront us with their rantings. In retrospect, both incidents amounted to a “temper tantrum”. Although her oldest daughter is 29 and my oldest daughter is 30, they are single, have no children, and are exceedingly frustrated with not finding a worthy suitor. At their ages, my friend and I had children, and were single parents. Perhaps we over-compensated for absent parents or maybe in our quest to be a “whole” parent we exposed our vulnerabilities.

My oldest daughter has yet to apologize or communicate with me further. Perhaps she is reluctant to face me after her words. She calls my youngest daughter daily, perhaps in an effort to “test” the waters.

I, on the other hand, am waiting for my apology. I have decided it is long overdue and well earned.

My gift from this experience is I realize our children will always be exactly that … our children.