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I don't know why I didn't invite my daughter to come. I felt if my daughter came on this trip, she would take all the attention away from the girls because she always had to be the center of attention.Later, it was mentioned to me that this hurt her very much and I can certainly understand how that might have happened. I wanted them to have the attention from the family because I felt they were more needy than she. So I decided to take the girls without my daughter.

I enrolled them in the private school where I taught and paid tuition. My second husband, I believe, just couldn't handle it.I hugged them and told them I loved them everyday because my parents never did that for me. Thinking back, I realize now I must have not been there for my daughter completely with all of this on my mind. He had been my first boyfriend and we never had a real partnership or intimacy.I could go on and on about all the things I did that I thought were being a good mother. Seeing my sister die at only 35, the sober reality of how short life really is hit me in the face like cold water. She once told me during a particularly hard time in High School "If it weren't for Joe, I'd be on drugs or pregnant." I was so happy that he took delight in listening to all of her teenage problems, give her counsel and advice.My daughter carried through with her promise and I got some much needed "escape" on occasional weekends because she babysat for me.She helped with cleaning the house and there was always a ton of housework. She wanted to be in the same bedroom with them and she was by now, in her early twenties and they, much younger, were influenced by her smoking in their bedroom, cursing and cynical, critical attitude.I remember telling her exactly "My plate is overflowing and I can't take one more thing." She begged and promised that she would help me take care of the girls, babysit, help with the housework, all of this but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me move back home..."Mommy". I remember having a bad feeling in my stomach that this would not work out. At the end of the story, the very things she promised to do because I was so overwhelmed to help me, became the things she resented. My nieces paternal grandmother (who wanted nothing to do with them when Mom died and they needed a place to go) criticized me constantly to the girls which caused them to behave disrespectfully to me at times and belligerent to each other.

To her credit, she did keep her promise and babysit for me. But mostly I just needed some time to get away from the stress-filled misery that was my life by this time. So they started fighting for the first time between themselves.

I thought at the time, she would spend Christmas with her dad and it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I know with certainly I didn't intend to be hurtful to my daughter by doing this, but I think I felt we all needed a break from her.

She had become very bossy of the girls as if she owned my house, owned me and owned them. I think it is interesting that I can't really remember the details of this incident.

She was so happy to see me...running toward me as if I was the light of her world. I remember how my heart warmed to see my beautiful little girl that day and so many day. I did all the things for my daughter and my son that had never been done for me.

When the grief overtakes me, I remember moments like those that cannot be taken away from me. I did all the things I thought good moms do--including abstaining from alcohol, my family's curse.

My little girl with her long brown hair, came running to me with flowers she had (illegally) picked at school.