My daughter was never close to my mother. Now, it’s too late, and I feel guilty.

• I rarely invited my mother to holidays or parties because she lived far away.
• That meant my daughter never really got to know her grandmother, and I feel guilty.
• My mom died recently, and I now realize my mistake, knowing relationships need to be nurtured.

I made choices that widened the distance between my mom and my daughter.

My daughter's mom died when she was just 3 years and 5 months old in January 2001. When I remarried a year and a half later in July 2002, my wife's family became the center of all family gatherings. Since they lived closer than my mom, my daughter naturally gravitated more toward her stepmom's side. Over the years, holidays, birthdays, and other special occasions leaned in that direction.

It's not that there wasn't love. My mom loved her granddaughter, and my daughter loved her grandmother. However, the love was scarce, and the presence didn't develop into a strong relationship. I subconsciously assumed that because they loved each other, that was enough.

My mother died recently, and now, looking back, I realize I was wrong. Relationships don't just happen by accident; they must be intentionally nurtured.

I wish I were more intentional about inviting my mother

My biggest regret is that I didn't strike a better balance. Many times, I neglected to invite my mom and immediate family as often as I could have. I assumed the distance would keep my mom from traveling. Instead of giving her a choice, I decided for her.

I should have been more intentional and created space for her to be present, even if it meant extra effort.

My daughter is now 28 years old. She's building her own life, career, and stories. I am proud of all that she has accomplished so far, but she doesn't carry enough memories of my mom with her.

I once got a glimpse of what could have been

There were moments where their connection showed potential to grow stronger. In 2015, my mom drove from Georgia to Pennsylvania for my daughter's high school graduation. Then, in 2016, during her first year in college, my mom drove from Georgia to Virginia to see her receive the Freshman of the Year Award. I remember the pride shining from both of them. My mom clapped in the audience as her granddaughter went to the front to receive her award.

I remember the joy and excitement of those moments. Those special events were proof that my mom genuinely wanted to attend, and it meant a lot to my daughter when she did. Those were glimpses of what their relationship could have been if distance and my choices hadn't stood in the way.

However, those visits during special occasions were the exception rather than the rule. Most of the time, years slip by between them.

They briefly saw each other in November 2018 when we drove down as a family to go to an event in Georgia. When they saw each other again in May 2022, it was only for a brief moment.

Reflecting on it now, I see all the opportunities I let slip. Holidays that I could have shared differently. Instead of taking vacations to Disney, I could have taken my daughter to Georgia. I could have encouraged more phone calls during the weekends. But I didn't.

I'm now facing lessons I can't ignore

If there is one thing that guilt has taught me, it's that relationships don't flourish on their own. While love may instinctively exist, the connection does not. It takes planning, effort, and choice, and I regret not choosing enough.

I should have given my mom the choice to come instead of assuming. I should have created more space for my daughter to hear her grandmother's stories. I should have been the bridge between two of the most important women in my life, but I wasn't.

My mom died in July 2025 after battling dementia and cancer for a year.

Now, my daughter and I talk about my mom through memories, pictures, and stories that I have. While it's something, it can never replace the relationship that could have been.

I feel regret and guilt for not doing what I should have when I had the chance. My lack of intention left many unrealized moments.

If I could go back, I would make a different choice. I would stop assuming and start inviting, and make the effort, no matter how inconvenient it may be.

I will forever carry that responsibility forward and be intentional about creating space for connection, rather than simply hoping it will happen on its own. I won't assume that distance or busyness is enough reason to let love sit unused.