Let your children be who they are

I was sharing some fabulous photos of my mother, who passed away in 2013, when a childhood friend asked me if she was supportive of my writing.

My first impulse was yes. Then I had to rethink the question. Was she really? It didn’t always seem so.

It’s true my mother more thantoleratedmy creative pursuits. She suppliedme with pencils, paints, scissors, glue, and giantpads of paper. She colored with me. She drew pictures withme. She read to me.She taught me to sew and embroider, and let mecut up...