Why a Daughter Needs a Mom: Reasons Three through Five

As part of our continuing series, we examine Gregory E. Lang's Why a Daughter Needs a Mom: 100 Reasons. If you missed the beginning of our series, please check out Reason One and Reason Two. There are few things in life as special as the mother-daughter bond, and Lang's book does a fine job illustrating this in 100 Reasons (he also wrote Why a Son Needs a Mom: 100 Reasons).

Reasons Three through Five:
 

To assure her that she always has a place to come home to.

Because no one understands girls like a mom.

To remind her that in faith there is fellowship.

There's no place like home, as Dorothy so eloquently said in The Wizard of Oz, and my mom and dad made sure home was a place of love. Because we moved so much, it was a constantly changing structure but the love always remained. And as much as my dad loves us, there are some subjects a daughter feels more comfortable discussing with her mom. I've recently experienced this as my 5th grade daughter viewed the Family Life video at school. We've had several open discussions. She loves her father dearly, but she wanted him nowhere near us as we talked about menstruation, body parts, etc (and he, full of love as well, was okay being left out).

There's a moment in Depression Cookies where Krista feels lost. Her mom, Abby, has been gone for awhile helping her own mother heal after the death of her husband/Abby's dad. Krista says it all, "Our house without Mom was incomplete−a structure of wood and plaster without a heart. There was no warmth or joy; we just went through the motions. With each passing day, the air became more dense and stale. Dad tried his jokes, and we would gurgle out a pathetic attempt at laughter, but we needed Mom back. Pure and simple."

My parents weren't raised as church-goers and found religion together. They wanted to gift us with faith, and I now pass this gift to my daughters. This faith, as well as our faith in each other, is a tremendous source of fellowship.

Just yesterday a mother asked how many kids I have. Three girls, I replied. She then said, "I'm sorry." I was confused, and told her not to be because I love my girls. "They are so much harder than boys," she said. I thought for a second, and said simply, "And worth every second."

My family at Great Wolf Lodge this winter