Of Sons and Daughters: A Tale of Three Hearts

It is said that "A son is a son till he takes him a wife, a daughter is a daughter all of her life." This is indeed a tale of three hearts; of a son and two daughters whose hearts beat to a very different timing. Three clocks by three makers from three different planets!

I have three children, two girls and one boy (the youngest), and they couldn’t be more different. But the greatest difference is in my two girls, night and day, they are.


My oldest, is very headstrong and challenging—a must to have center stage. She has a temper that climbs high to flashing RED and cools down almost at the same speed. Sometimes that can be so taxing on my aging and tired spirit. But I will say in her defense, and almost to a fault, she loves fiercely, and with that same love protects dreadfully fiercely.  Sigh!

I think that because she is the oldest—and we were tougher on her—and given the fact that she has always been prideful and extremely independent, she was most eager to leave and make her own nest. And though she undoubtedly loves me, she keeps me at arm’s-length while likes knowing that I am always in her radar.

My middle child, the peacemaker—tolerant, patient, lenient and forgiving—can be stubborn when needs to be, but with a gentle heart looks to have common ground in all things and family. However she is somewhat of a perfectionist when it comes to expecting things of herself. It is enough to bring me to tears sometimes.  Sigh!

This one remains near, never wanting to wander off far. This one loves with an unconditional heart. It is in her that I have confided and spilled my aching heart many times. She allows me to take her into my confidence, and will even advise me with gentle wisdom reserved for the ancients. She is my piece of Heaven!

My son, a smart and clever boy (now a man), gave me the companionship a mother and son should have. For a long-time there he was mine; my baby. He, too, lent his heart and ears and compassion when I was in need. He’d been my little rock, often a lifter of my spirits. But I knew the day would come when his heart would belong to someone else, and that day did indeed arrive.  Sigh!

I take solace in my heart knowing and believing that the same love and tenderness and respect he has shown me all these years, he will also give to the woman he chooses to share his life with, the one that I pray will love him back.

My son was the last to leave home, but he left when he’d given his heart to the woman that would now replace me. And though I am saddened at my children’s leaving, I rejoice and celebrate in their happiness, for I am not a jealous or selfish mother. And I have welcomed their chosen partners with open arms.

I know that I will always have a piece of their heart just for me!


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