This essay was inspired by an incident report on a mother-daughter sensitive exchange I read on Facebook last July 30. The report was written by a former college student of mine in her early 30s.

The report brought back poignant memories revolving around my own sensitive exchange with our own daughter who was then a graduating student in high school.

I had been diagnosed with severe clinical depression after weeks of visits to the emergency room and hospital confinement due to hypertension. Our daughter was devastated. Her supermom had feet of clay after all.

Generously, Cynthia Patag, sent a close friend, an ex-nun to help our daughter process what was going on in our lives. She had to grow up. She had to accept my limitations.

My former college student who wrote on Facebook must have raised her daughter in a progressive manner. For how could the daughter have retorted if the atmosphere at home was oppressive.

Unlike my former student, I was already in my 50s. I didn’t even bother to pick myself up; I was too sick. I didn’t have the energy to defend our daughter from critics who didn’t understand our way of parenting. Our daughter was reared in an open-communication way. What others considered as sassy comebacks were deemed normal expressions of ideas. As long she didn’t harm anybody nor herself!

I didn’t feel the need to defend my turf. Even as a depressed mom, I felt I didn’t have to prove myself to our daughter.

Our daughter has grown up. She is now London-based as an HR Director of a multinational company. I pray that the daughters and sons our daughter and of all my former students will cross over into adulthood in a normal manner and whenver and wherever possible in joy!