Last week I read Kelly Corrigan’s bestselling memoir, The Middle Place. I was deeply moved by Corrigan’s hilarious and heartbreaking account of balancing her roles as daughter, wife, and mother within “the middle place – that sliver of time when childhood and parenthood overlap” and during her battle against breast cancer. But what resonated most deeply for me was Kelly’s relationship with her father George – and how his life and his parenting centered around what I realize to be one of my central desires as a mother.
This winter, Lindsey at A Design So Vast started a conversation that has run through my head over and over and that provided shape and depth to my experience of reading The Middle Place. In her beautiful post, “Safe,” Lindsey wrote
Perhaps most vitally, though, I want to be safe from myself. I want to be clearly seen for who and what I am – something that I have truly felt so rarely in my life – but also loved in spite of it. I know I misbehave, I know I am far too emotional, reactive, insecure. I want to be kept safe from those monsters running in my head: I want someone to wrap their arms around me and tell me that I am safe from my own rampaging emotions…
I want to feel safe. What will it take? How do I build a life around those people, places, and experiences that provide that? How do I not transmit this irrational but deeply destabilizing fear to my children? How do I learn to control my own reactivity so that more people might be willing to be here, so that I can trust that they will keep me safe? I don’t know the answers. I’m only barely seeing the questions shimmering up through the morass of roiling thoughts in my head. I turn back to Rilke, and commit yet again, as another day turns towards morning, to living the questions.
Since reading Lindsey’s post, I have reflected often on this idea of safety, how we attain it and how we impart it to our kids. In a guest post at Lindsey’s place, I mused that faith, a by-product of my religious upbringing, might be the force that has allowed me to feel fundamentally safe throughout my life, in spite of my tendency toward anxiety. But, I worried then and still worry now: how will my boys feel that same deeply-seated sense of safety given that they are being raised outside of any religious tradition?
While reading The Middle Place, I discovered in George Corrigan a living, breathing, joking model for the parental safety net. According to Kelly Corrigan, her dad is a lacrosse-obsessed, Irish-Catholic salesman whose “default setting is open delight.” He pleases and is pleased by the world around him, embracing optimism and faith and eschewing long odds and doubt. He chats up the prickly clerk at the deli, he bestows everyone with nicknames, and he hands out compliments to passersby.
And it seems that no one is more positively affected by George Corrigan (aka Greenie) and his golden touch than his three kids. About him, Kelly writes
He makes me feel smart, funny, and beautiful, which has become the job of the few men who have loved me since…He defined me first, as parents do. Those early characteristics can become the shimmering self-image we embrace or the limited, stifling perception we rail against for a lifetime. In my case, he sees me as I would like to be seen. In fact, I’m not even sure what’s true about me, since I have always chosen to believe his version.
While reading this, I realized that this is the way I also felt as a kid. Regardless of how thick my glasses were or how awkward my clothing choices, my parents told me I was beautiful. No matter how loudly my grade school classmates sent me the message that being smart wasn’t cool, my parents celebrated my curiosity. Like Greenie, they saw me as I wanted to be seen. As, and as a result, I came to see myself that way too. I felt good about myself and felt safe in a world that I thought should and would see me as they did. Of growing up with her parents, Kelly Corrigan writes, “I could only deduce that the world was a safe place…beyond safe – it had a sense of humor, it knew your name, it was waiting for you. Hell, it was even rooting for you.” I felt that way too.
And it occurred to me that George Corrigan’s most singular characteristic is his faith – and not just his commitment to Catholicism, which is deep. (Indeed, when the going gets tough, Greenie gets to Mass.) He – like my own parents – embodies faith not just in God, but in “the human spirit,” and in his kids. And it is this wide-arching brand of faith that makes everyone feel like their best selves in his presence. He has faith in you and so you have faith in yourself.
In George Corrigan, I found a parenting role model and a new version of faith that I think might help me create a buffer of safety for my boys. I don’t know if I will ever again feel as at home as he does in a Catholic church. I don’t know that I will ever share his faith that God will guide me or a loved one through cancer. But I believe – I have faith – that I can borrow and apply much of his type of faith. I can believe in myself and my choices as a mother. I can believe in my kids, in their beauty, and intelligence, and wonder. I can help create and make them believe in a safe world that will welcome them.
Hell, one that will even root for them.
What helps you feel safe? If you are a parent, how do you make your kids feel safe?
Image: Father & Daughter by Difei Li via Flickr under a Creative Commons license.
{ 47 comments… read them below or add one }
I loved that book and I love your thoughts today. I need to recommend that book to more friends.
What a gorgeous tribute to your father, to both of your parents. Thank you for the quote – an enormous honor to read my words in this space. I love your thoughts about how to make the world feel safe for our children, and agree with much of what you say. I too found Greenie to be a powerful character, though so very different from own father as to be poignant and make me a bit wistful.
Yours are two lucky boys, that’s all I can say.
xo
Thank you, friend, for your sweet words here and for your post this winter that has danced through my mind ever since.
Kristen, such an interesting and provovative post, as always. But particularly relevant to me right now as I work through decisions on how to raise my own children in terms of faith. My son will start kindergarten in the fall at a Catholic school. We decided that was right for a number of reasons, not all of them religious. But now we must decide how best to introduce him to the concepts of Catholicism. And I’m not sure how to do it, or what place I want it to take in our family/home. But I digress.
I’ve also struggled, still struggle with the concept of safety and how to provide it for my children. Interestingly my father was always the one who provided it for me after the death of my biological mother. And though our relationships is important and vital, I wonder about the loving arms of a mother. I wonder how what I have to give my children is different from what I had growing up. I could muse on this for hours, but think I shouldn’t commandeer your comments.
Your boys are so lucky to have a mom who thinks this deeply, your influence is sure to help them spread their wings in wondrous and amazing ways.
As always you’ve set me to thinking, and I love that about your place. Thank you dear friend. xo
You have such a unique perspective on this topic, Christine, and I’m grateful to you for sharing the start of your thoughts on it here. I feel lucky to have read about your own approach to motherhood at Coffees & Commutes and look forward to the ways that you might continue this conversation there.
As for my boys, I only hope that all my wondering helps them feel safe rather than more anxious. At the very least, they are loved. And tremendously so. And that goes a long way to helping them feel safe, I think.
I am not a religious person in any conventional sense. Yet I do believe it is so vitally important to have faith in oneself and now, as a mother, to believe in our children and embrace them for exactly who and what they are. I think that is the greatest gift we can bestow upon them. This post has set me thinking hard this morning about how to do an even better job of that with my daughter, so thank you.
Kristen, you’ve hit the nail on the head! Faith in humanity, that there is a safe place and loving people out there who will accept us as we are. That’s exactly what I know you’ll impart in your boys, with or without religion. It’s what I hope and pray I can do with my kids too….
Lovely!!
Home isn’t about religion or faith traditions.
It’s about being the one place in the world where YOU are accepted and prized, just because you are YOU.
That’s what we impart to our kids. That’s why they feel safe at home. That’s what makes our homes islands in the nasty world out there–they know that they can always come home.
This is one of my favorite posts of yours Kristen. It has me sitting here really thinking. And feeling really good. Because the ONE thing that I’m confident I’m good at as a mom is making my kids feel safe. Physically and emotionally. I am insecure about so many other things I do and the way I do them with H and L but showering them with love, telling them they are smart and beautiful and Can achieve their desires, I do and I do well.
Sadly, I did NOT always feel emotionally safe growing up. Whether my loving parents meant to or not, they often were quite critical of most things I did. Which left me in an uncomfortable place for much of my childhood. I never really thought of it as not feeling safe but after reading your words, I see that that is exactly what it was.
You are so lucky to have been brought up by such amazing parents. And I have NO doubt that YOUR faith alone in your kids is all you need.
Beautiful.
Thank you so much, Becca. Your comment has got me thinking about the ways in which my own parents’ style of praise was really one to emulate in my own role as a mom. While they were endlessly supportive, they also didn’t let me get away with too much nonsense. If I needed to be put in my place, they did it. (And that’s actually a little different than George Corrigan in the book; I think he didn’t always call his kids on their BS.) Does that make sense?
P.S. Have you read *The Middle Place*? I think you’d really like it.
Perhaps strangely, I’ve never thought about providing a sense of safety to my kids. I suppose it’s something I do without thinking about it. But I recognize that as my son gets older I will have to be more proactive in this effort. I’ve been thinking of adding “The Middle Place” to my reading list, and this post seals it. Thanks for the recommendation and the insight.
I loved The Middle Place and, in particular, Corrigan’s characterization of her father, George. What a formidable force in her life! How incredibly lucky she was to have him, always confident of her gifts and abilities, guiding her through.
This was beautiful, Kristen!
Growing up poor with an often critically ill mother, I realize now that I lacked any sense of security. I lost my faith as my mother lost the reality of a normal life. These days it is clearly the financial aspect that provides me the sense of security to put my mind at ease, which seems silly. I don’t know if I do anything for my kids to make them feel safe. I’ll have to ask!
Thanks for sharing this, Cathy. I hope to read more about your experiences at your place.
And, by the way, I don’t think it’s at all silly to think about money as being a factor in safety – these days especially, when so many people’s financial foundations have been shaken to the core.
I think knowledge is what makes me feel safe. So I research and read and learn to an almost obsessive point. So often I say to my husband, I wish I could just go with the flow more, relax, and let things fall where they may. Because even the anxiety driven research doesn’t make me feel all that safe really.
I was raised Catholic, but do not practice now and don’t really consider myself a Catholic. My immediate family no longer practices either. But my maternal grandparents have/had an incredible faith, one I admire greatly. To this day, the church is where I go to feel close to loved ones who are no longer here…which I find sort of strange. But I do feel safe in the church.
Hi Rebecca – Your comment really resonated with me. I tend to be someone who searches for information, for as many details as possible. But I also find that more information often leaves me feeling less at ease. And there’s something about the mystery of religion that relaxes me in a way science can’t. I don’t anticipate that I’ll become a more religious person (in a traditional sense) any time soon, but I do want to look for ways to incorporate the elements of traditional religion that work for me into my life – to help me find comfort when answers don’t.
I think that my Hubby and I have given our two daughters this kind of safe and loving upbringing. They are such good kids and I am so proud of them that it makes me think that we must be doing something right. Having a home life where my kids always felt safe has always been so important to me because I did not grow up with that. I wonder how much more I could have accomplished if I had not become afraid of everything.
Wonderful and thought-provoking post.
This is a beautiful and provacative post. It is important for children to feel safe and it is our job as parents to provide that safety. We will forver second guess ourselves, and then when it is said and done, you will at times wonder if you did ok. While I no longer attend an institution of organized religion, I find comfort in God. But not just the God I found at church…I found a much deeper and loving God within myself. I am glad I had the roots to search, but feel my spirituality is much stronger now. We never forced church on our children but we provided a basis, but it helped that my husband and I have similar beliefs. I don’t know that the safety our children felt so much came from church anyway. I think they felt a sense of safety and love at home and from each of us. I think the family unit and security of home strengthens a child.
Oh my goodness, so much to think over. And now I’m totally intrigued by this book.
I hope that I can make my son feel safe my encouraging him, letting him explore, introducing new things and letting him know that it’s OK if he’s not good at everything. I hope that by doing these things, he will grow up to be a confident man.
{This is such a hard subject for me to comment about because I never want to come off as preachy. So I hope you’ll know my heart and know that I’m only relaying my experience, which, or course, is unique and can be taken or left at the door. :) }
I grew up with two parents who loved me. I do, indeed, feel like we are given parents to help instill in us a sense of love and security and self worth … because who else can love you like mom or dad, right? They really gave me such a gift through loving me and telling me I was beautiful {much like yours} even when I had HORRIBLE haircuts and such. lol. I totally agree with you that parents are vital to a child’s sence of self worth and security.
And as a grown woman who just lost her father a few months ago, I can attest that some of that security is fleeting when a parent dies. I feel sometimes like I’ve lost my protector, one of my life advocates in losing my father. That’s where I’ve needed my faith in a Heavenly Father probably most in my entire life. I personally have needed my faith in a God who says He loves me unendingly and relentlessly to still feel like I have a sense of understanding and security, so I can really identify with George in the book. Even in times of joy, I’ve found with every year I’ve aged, that I’ve held tight to my faith in God to have a sense of understanding and security.
Lovely and thought-provoking, as always, Kristen. And it serves as a great reminder about the very important job we have as parents.
Hello, my friend – First off, I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your father. I very much appreciate your sharing your experience of turning even more to your faith in the wake of a personal loss. That makes sense to me on many levels.
Second off, I don’t think you ever come across as preachy. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for being here and for sharing your perspective. I think it is often very hard (especially offline) for people who believe different things to come together and talk about their convictions and their questions – whether it be about politics, religion, etc. I thank you for reading what I have to say without judgment. I hope that Motherese is a community where we can all speak honestly and openly and where we are never judged or criticized for speaking our piece (and our peace). :) Thank you for helping me create that type of community here.
An elegant post, with wonderful references including Lindsey’s. The issue of feeling safe is hard to grasp, and so important as parents.
Raising my children in a hybrid expression of faith that is more spiritual than anything else, I doubt they have any religious dogma to fall back on as a source of strength. And that is how I’ve raised them. I wanted them to have faith in themselves and in humanity, in general. Faith in joy outweighing sorrow, though sorrow is certainly something they’ve had to face.
Oddly, even if we, as parents, do not feel safe, I think we can do better for our children. In knowing what it is to be unsafe, we can assure them in the ways you mentioned – with our constancy, our listening, our involvement, our reassurance, our faith in them.
I grew up knowing that I was safe, or at least as safe as my parents could make the world. I think that my children have the same feeling.
My kids go to a Jewish day school for a host of reasons not all of them religious in nature.
One thing that I do without fail each week is bless my children. They have grown up knowing that they each have a special blessing that mom and dad give them.
I can’t tell you if they attribute any sort of religious aspect to it, but I know they love it. We usually do it right before dinner each Friday night, but I have found that sometimes when they are sick or unhappy they come and ask for it on other days/times.
If it works the way I want they will continue to ask for it until the day I die. It is just something that we share that provides comfort for them, so it makes me happy.
Hi Jack – A very similar blessing takes place over the son (and now grandsons) and the daughters (now including me) when we share Shabbat dinner with my husband’s family. I have always found it to be both simple and powerful, a ritual that takes on such meaning, especially in a day and age where ritual is harder to come by. And I love that your kids ask for the blessing at other times during the week. Clearly you have come up with a way of imparting safety to them when they feel like they need it most.
I feel very fortunate to have come up with something that candidly is so easy. FWIW, the back story is tied up in something that happened long ago.
A dear friendof mine died of complications from a brain tumor.
I was married at the time and didn’t have any children. One Friday night we stood around his bed and I watched his mother bless him.
He wasn’t conscious during this, but I swear that I saw him relax. It could have been my imagination, but I don’t know. But when I saw that I knew that when I became a father I had to do it.
Almost 12 years later I never stop learning from that experience.
What a beautiful piece, Kristen. As adults, I think we ultimately find safety inside of ourselves, by actually meeting up with those monsters that Lindsey so eloquently speaks of, rather than running from them or burying them. For children it is different, and they need safety from the outside. So I think that your recognition of George Corrigan as a role model, and all that you strive to do as a parent to keep your kids safe, is beautiful. And exactly what is needed. But I also think that there will come a time, no matter how safe you’ve made it for your children, that they will feel unsafe. It won’t be about you, though. It’s part of the territory of being human – the existential realization that ultimately we are all alone, and the world is an overwhelming place. And I don’t know – is there a place in parenting that allows for creating as much safety as possible while also helping children to understand the transition from naive innocence to existential doubt to wise innocence? I don’t have an answer for that one, but truly appreciate the chance to ponder it. Thanks!
Hi Patty – I think you raise a critically important point about preparing kids for the vagaries of the world without terrifying them in the process. In my own life, I have been lucky enough to experience very little of the overwhelming nature of the world. But, when I have come up against cruel people or cruel situations, I have found that I have felt tremendous solace in the reserve of safety I got initially from my parents and continue to experience in my relationship with my husband. Maybe this safety I talk about can be almost a protective barrier (an existential bullet-proof vest) that won’t keep us totally safe from harm, but will help us remain faithful in the ultimate good of the world. (Wow, I guess I woke up this morning with a distinct Pollyanna streak!)
Oh boy…you and Lindsey. You guys have a way of stretching me that blows my mind. :)
I won’t ramble on and on about how safe I feel, even though I’m tempted…
I will just say that what I hope to do for my boys is a few main things:
Giving them a safe place kind of home-where the tone is light (as in ‘not heavy’ or angsty or anxious or…rude, I guess.) and the love so freely flowing and unconditional that they never doubt that they BELONG here. Of course I want to grow their self worth with praise and encouragement and support, and I want that to be genuine.
I do want to be like George Corrigan in the sense that I treat my boys like they hung the moon-I can’t help it-I’m crazy about them. I don’t want to hover or create narcissists, but I do want them to know that I REALLY SEE all their parts and accept them. I want to tell them all the time what it is that I see in them. I think, very simple things lead to that, like being truly interested and involved in their lives.
The End.
I absolutely loved The Middle Place. I don’t know that I could ever trust like George did, have such a strong faith. And I do wonder if that’s generational. My grandparents all feel that way, actually in the Catholic church, as does my father (no longer Catholic though…) but not my mother.
The book struck me so deeply in so many ways. Honestly, and this is a little off topic, it gave me a bit of peace about having a long distance relationship with my parents.
Have you read Lift yet? Also a lovely read…
I haven’t read Lift yet, but it’s now on my wish list. I swear, lady, you and Lindsey are positively filling my bedside table with books to read. (Luckily I have a copy of The Awakening on my shelf already…phew!) :)
Kristen,
I had the opportunity to hear Kelly Corrigan speak while she was promoting her book, Lift (a must read for parents I think) and she is clever, wise and abundantly honest.
I always felt relatively safe as a child having parents who encouraged me to be who I wanted to be. My father only said one thing, “Whatever you start, finish it.” It has been good advice and I hope to instill that same ethic in my daughter.
As far as faith, the Hindu religion is very tolerant and as little kids my sister and I were encouraged to explore other religions. I was fortunate enough to attend a private Christian school and also experienced other various faiths. For me faith is something that I hold on to, especially in moments of despair. I believe all feelings, whether sad or happy will pass, and the transition between these two emotions should be rooted in some kind of overarching and powerful sense of faith.
Thought-provoking post – as always.
Wow, Rudri, it sounds like you have a tremendous perspective on the issue of faith. These words of yours really blew me away this morning: “I believe all feelings, whether sad or happy will pass, and the transition between these two emotions should be rooted in some kind of overarching and powerful sense of faith.” What a remarkably simple, yet profound way of looking at it. Thank you.
You are so good at these book summaries. And I love how we all read all of the same books. It’s to the point that when I order something from Amazon, and it says ‘people who bought this also bought this’ I wonder ‘ was that Kristen? Corinne? Their readers??’ :)
You know it’s funny, I had a hard time letting myself like both George and Kelly when I read the book. I think my relationship with my father was so different – very good, but very different. When there are five daughters and not one, there are no princesses. The you’re so beautiful talk is measured. And I never felt the need for it and so found it hard to accept that it was so important (when reading Kelly’s account). My dad always taught and encouraged me to be independent and to try things for myself and that I could do anything i wanted to (and I ended up choosing a man who treated me the same way). So I’m like Kelly in the way that I chose to see myself the way my dad saw/sees me, but I guess different in what that is.
I think I just processed all of that while I was writing this comment. Sorry for the digression, but I wasn’t sure before now why I didn’t like them at first, now I see why. And now I like them better, too.
(do I sound crazy?? I hope that all just made sense.)
I know exactly what you mean about the Amazon recommendations. When I was pre-ordering Aidan’s book for a friend, Amazon told me “People who bought Life After Yes also liked Raising Happiness” (which was my first book club book) and I said to myself: “I totally know the person who bought this book before me!” I love this small and large book reading community we’re creating!
Your comment reminded me of something I was thinking a lot about while reading The Middle Place. Like Kelly, I am the only daughter and I have two brothers. I do think there is something unique (and potentially weird!) about the relationship that exists between an only daughter and her parents (and maybe especially her dad). And I wondered about the extent to which Kelly’s story resonated with me because we shared that unique and weird relationship. So thanks for being here and inspiring me to think more about that.
Yeah, I guess I hadn’t thought about that difference, at least not directly, before. And maybe my reaction was because we tend to put down those gifts we didn’t get but maybe deep down would have appreciated. I don’t know…I think I’d have to think about it more.
But I realize what I brought up weren’t really your main points anyway. I agree with you that someone who can make you feel like your best self, like the world is rooting for you, is a wonderful parental role model. I hope I can be like that, too.
Side note: You should look into teaching/lecturing at the college level. You wouldn’t need a PhD at a community college. You are too good a teacher not to share that gift. (Although I guess you’re sharing it here!) :)
Although I have gone through periods of anti-faith, I realize that my Buby’s powerful faith was something she gave to me without pushing or preaching, just by modeling an ecumenical and truly Catholic (in the sense of broad-minded) sort of faith. She believed in nature, in spirit and I now realize in the sort of “God” that is more mystery than explanation. Perhaps our faith in the importance of love, in fact the power of love and presence and optimism, could be synonymous with faith in whatever it is that brings us into being and unites us in this beautiful and difficult world.
The space you hold, inviting Lindsey’s words and Kellly Corrigan and all of us comment-leavers, is a sort of sacred and secular place where love shows up. In my view that’s something to inspire faith.
Thank you, Bruce. Your words mean more to me than you know.
Faith.
It’s pretty loaded.
But you just talked and that made me feel safe. There was (and always is) and over-arching theme in your words that says, “I don’t know.” The three most profound words in my faith.
You’re looking. I’m looking. Everyone here commenting at Motherese is looking (and maybe even finding) but I love Lindsey’s words, “living the questions.”
I think faith is not about being certain so much as being practiced at wonderment.
Thank you for writing this. Truly.
“But I believe – I have faith – that I can borrow and apply…”
I really like this line. A lot. When the going gets tough, sometimes it’s hard for me to have faith that things are going to work out, and I’ve had to “borrow” faith from someone else. Thanks!
Kristen, this post is full of powerful and thought-provoking goodness. I’m not sure where to start!
The issue most salient to me is the challenge of raising kids without a faith community, a home church. I know plenty of people do this, but for me – having grown up in a strong Catholic family too – it’s hard to imagine. As young adults in the US are less and less likely to affiliate with one organized religion, we will move to educating the next generation about right and wrong, compassion, karma, and all these values – merely through the way we live our lives. It won’t necessarily be Sunday Mass. It will be every day actions. And that is beautiful and powerful but also incredibly frightening.
It is so great that your parents provided this sense of security for you as a child. I hope I can do it for my kids. (And I really need to read this book!)
Kristen, I read this yesterday morning and I’m still processing my comment to you. In short, between Father’s Day and this, I read many posts about wonderful dads out there that left me a tad bit envious.
My childhood was normal enough but my parents’ relationship wasn’t; my dad was not a very nice man, and he wasn’t around most of the time. But despite his shortcomings, he did impart valuable lessons – I am independent, strong and resilient because of him. Also, in a way, he is responsible for the life that I have now because I deliberately chose a partner who is nothing like him.
I guess that’s my way of saying that despite a difficult relationship with my father I still trust in humankind, or rather in this case, mankind :), and believed that there is a man out there for me who will be wonderful and kind, and who will be a great father to our kid(s). And I was right.
I will continue to have faith for my children’s sake, so that they, too, can trust that this world can be safe for them, even if there’re bumps and hardships along the way.
BTW, I am genuinely happy for you that you had a great upbringing. It’s stories like yours that inspire me to be that parent to my child – seeing how you’ve turned out, how could I want to be anything BUT that parent?
Oh drat! This book is on my nightstand right now! An Amazon purchase in the midst of my winter need for MORE LITERATURE AROUND THIS HOUSE THAN I REALLY HAVE TIME TO READ…
But now I must get reading. Isn’t summer supposed to bring lots of that kind of time? Hammock-swinging, lemonade-sipping, sweet-breeze music-playing reading time? Work with me here…
Bravo! I LOVE this post. I have been grappling with how to raise our daughter with the confidence to find and be proud of her own path and this post really helps me understand how to do that. I never really knew what it was about my parents that allowed me to have the confidence I do today and I realize it was/is the safe environment they created and the confidence they had in me knowing I would succeed at whatever I put my mind to. It is very important to me that we can replicate that environment and like you we are not using a church to do it.
Interesting questions… I don’t have children so at the moment I only have one side of the parent/child experience.
I loved The Middle Place, and Greenie is one of those characters–albeit real–who has stuck with me. I couldn’t have articulated why as well as you have, Kristen. But I hope you (and Lindsay) have spread the word of The Middle Place. It’s a powerful book that teaches well.
I read “The Middle Place” a few years back and it touched me very deeply. I expected to bond with the writer on her experience with breast cancer as I’m a breast cancer survivor myself. I strongly identified with Kelly Corrigan as she navigated cancer while being the mother of two little girls just like I was when I faced cancer. Talk about trying to transfer a sense of safety in your children when you are facing life threatening illness. Lucky for us both we’ve survived and are doing well. I also felt a strong connection to Corrigan as she described her relationship with her father. I thought wow to have a father like that. Not only did he validate her but taught her that life is good and can be trusted. To have a parent who instills a sense of optimism and self efficacy in you is a gift of the highest order. That is my main goal in parenting my two lovely daughters. And it is NOT EASY as I tend to be anxious about life – not trusting it and expecting something bad to happen. I had a tough childhood with loss and criticism/humiliation prevalent in the emotional climate in which I was raised. Today I’m happy though. I have great love in my life and never am too far from feeling the preciousness of life. I try to transfer that kind of gratefulness to my children. Maya Angelou said when you’re child walks into a room, your face should light up. That is what I try to do every day. Let’s hope that holds when my tween girls get to be teenagers! LOL.