I spent a few hours last Saturday signing books in a beautiful, quaint town square in a small, southern community. While sitting there, I watched people bustle in and out of bakeries and browse the decades-old shops that lined the shady streets.
Groups consisted of friends and other family members, but most of all I noticed the mother/daughter teams. They held colorful shopping bags and laughed heartily with one another as they strolled down the cracked sidewalk.
Young mothers toted chubby babies draped in bibs and ruffle pants. Moms of teenagers walked a few steps ahead while their young girls slowly followed them and scrolled through their phones. Older mothers held onto their elderly mamas’ arms and helped them navigate the steep step into the boutique. I saw mothers and daughters at every stage of life− spending precious time with one another.
Before my own beautiful mother passed away last year, I never really noticed the mother/daughter dynamic everywhere I went. I paid no special attention to them shopping, enjoying lunch, whispering in the movie theater or appearing on my Facebook newsfeed with faces pressed close together. It was just another mom and her girl. It meant nothing to me.
