My Mother, My Friend

DALLAS, May 12, 2012/ — At 87 turning 88 on the 27th of this month, my mother Lucila is still as vibrant as I remember her to be. And though I lost my father at a very young age, I have been blessed to have my mother up to today.

I don’t know when my mother and I became friends because I still remember the days when we used to fight a lot. I still remember when I was a rebellious teen-ager and a young adult finding her identity. Then, I went away and did not see her for a long time.

When we saw each other again, she was obviously older and the independent streak I have had fully matured. But, my mother and I still had to find that perfect place wherein she was comfortable treating me as an adult while not feeling as if I did not respect her position as my mother.

I was in a similar situation. I was grown, I was independent, I was already married and leading a very productive life. The generation gap was wider, the differences in opinion was almost insurmountable.

But we persevered, and somewhere along the way, my mother and I became friends. And, perhaps that is one the best gifts I have received in my entire adult life.