About four years ago I stumbled upon the most amazing gift, found in the middle of a notebook in my moms art studio. A poem she had written to me. I pull it out often and read over her wise and loving words. I have recently put it up on my fridge as a reminder that she accepted me for exactly who I am, her crazy, predictably unpredictable, soul searching daughter. Though these words were written 14 years ago, they could have been written yesterday. My mom knew truly knew me and understood me and still loved me, unconditionally.
Her words... written February 27th, 2000
"This is a poem to my beautiful daughter, Tiffany who is searching for her "self". She is freeing herself from commitments of her past. She is stretching her wings. She is flying the independent flight of a young bird/launching herself on a journey. She is learning to trust herself, like herself, love herself.
She is sweet, generous, kind, loving and giving. She is getting acquainted with herself-her soul.
She is my daughter/I am her mother/sometimes flying together /sometimes flying solo."