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My father died twenty-nine years ago. He was seventy-three years old when he died. I was twenty-nine. This year I pass the half-way point of having my father in my life. From now on, he will have been physically absent from my life for more years than he was present.
It is the most difficult job I have ever done. I was desperately ill-equipped to take on the role. I was constitutionally unqualified to fulfill the essential tasks of the occupation.
On Mothers’ Day this year I put up a post called “Great Mothering.” The post consisted of my Ten Commandments for “Great Mothering.”
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