My Daughter My daughter is twenty-three years old. I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. At some point that night I realized my life would never be the same. I cried, because the only baby clothes I had were for a boy. As life proceeded I became not just her mother but her mom. I changed diapers and clothes, made meals and tried the best I knew how to provide my daughter with a stable life. She grew from infant to toddler with ease and with these changes my life became brand new again During this phase my greatset struggle was keeping clothes on her. Ibegan to wonder if my beautiful blonde headed little girl was destined to be a nudist. As it turned out she was not. By the time she entered elememtary school I had a complete tom-boy on my hands. Later on I cannot count the times that the girl I raised took on boys in order to protect others smaller than herself. I remember her first broken heart. I swear the pain I felt was just as fierce. I love the way her smille can light up my day and her bubbly laughter bounces inside my head. Even as the first heartbreak went away I knew there were more to come.So that was the major topic of the following few years. As before changes came and it was my daughters grauation day. Once again it was a stromy night that I will not forget. I cried that night too, watching my baby cross the stage to receive her high school diploma. The more years that pass the more my daughter comes to mean to me. My daughter, is just that mine. She is my daughter, my friend and also one of my proudest joys. …
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