On January 31st, I turned 27; another hugely conflicting day in this indefinable process. It was a PA day, and because I’m a supply teacher, I had the day off. I had a wonderfully full day planned, but that didn’t eliminate the hollow space in my heart that lingered all day long, ever on the verge of caving in. I luckily happened to have (surprise!) great company. And, it just so happens that this particular person just always seems to know when the walls in my heart are teetering. He just reaches on up and holds up all those walls, all at once, keeping me together.
You see, 27 years and 9 months before this day, my Mom gave me the biggest gift of all. Maybe my Dad played some part in that, yes, but he didn’t carry me around inside his body for nine long months nurturing me. He didn’t monitor carefully what he ate and drank; suffer from nausea, back pain, a compressed bladder, swollen ankles, or sleepless nights (among the many other inconveniences of pregnancy that I’ve never experienced). He doesn’t have stretch marks or less-than-perky boobs because of me, either. I’m sure he helped some in the 2 years following my birth (when my parents were still married), as many fathers try. But, for 27 years (9 months + 26 years + 5 months) my Mom gave up many of the things that she at one time spontaneously and selfishly did (just because) so that she could commit all of her energies to me.
When my Mom first found out she was pregnant, she wasn’t exactly “ready” for that news. It took her awhile to digest that truth, and decide to swallow that reality pill for good. I’m sure that she questioned her choice of commitment to motherhood a few times (a day) once she was past the point of no return. And, I know she did here and there in the years after my birth, too. I don’t blame her! Motherhood is one of my biggest fears at this stage in my life. I get that having children creates a full family. And, I luckily have a partner in life who is committed to me, and all of the things we share. But, when I think about how having children changes your personal life, your relationship, and the world – I get a bit dizzy. Rewind – a lot dizzy – and scared. Spend one day in an elementary or high school classroom these days and you’ll quickly see every kind of child you could end up with. Some you would take home in a heartbeat and keep forever, knowing they were born ‘good’ and/or have been made ‘good’ because of their raising. Or, others you would take home because you see their potential for ‘good’, and know that you could help them realize how wonderful they are. Others, well, for whatever in sundry reason, just aren’t all that ‘good’. Most times, that stems from the parenting that surrounds them, and I often find myself thinking, “might that be my child someday?”
Motherhood is the Mother of all responsibilities. We take a clean slate and throw all kinds of paints and mixed media at it. In the end, we get either a masterpiece, or something that only a mother could love. And, sometimes it takes years before that ‘piece of work’ is appreciated (uh, Van Gogh?). Most of the possible outcomes rest in the power of a mother.
Speaking of powerful mothers – I had one. Good and bad, she was a force to be reckoned with. She stood firm and strong to support what she believed in, and created quite a path along the way. I still find myself walking up and down that path, stopping to linger for awhile, getting to know her more and more even now that she’s gone. I still have people (usually strangers, apart from having some familial or ‘family friend’ connection) getting in touch, or introducing themselves in public, who knew and appreciated my Mom. I can’t tell you how much I love to hear other people talk about the things they loved about her. I would say that a quarter of their memories or thoughts are completely in line with what I knew and loved. But, I find I keep getting new insight into the person my Mom was, especially in the days before I came along and muddled things up. She was a pretty incredible and beautiful person. She has left her mark on so many more people than just me, and in that way, she’ll never ‘die’.
In connection to how wonderful she was, please note that I didn’t always recognize her greatness. She was my Mom, so we had the typical mother-daughter issues that most struggle with; curfews, taking the car out in snowstorms, agreeing about the guys I dated, what I could and couldn’t wear, faith, music, the way I spent my money, the list goes on… But, as a single child to an only parent (who had an overflowing plate full of stress and responsibility), we dealt with bigger, more difficult issues too. If you knew us well, you know what I mean.
Hindsight is 20/20, and I honestly believe that I will forever feel that I would re-live our tough times over and over again, if it meant 1 out of every 10 interactions could be good ones.
You don’t know - as a baby, child, adolescent, teenager, or young adult – what your parent(s) sacrifice(d) for you. I would even be willing to argue that we don’t see what they did for us until we can’t thank them in person for it anymore.
So, if willing, accept this challenge:
Think long and hard about what your Mother’s do, and have done, for you. I’m not saying you should write them a cheque, or a letter, to recognize it openly. Some Mother-daughter relationships are hard to piece back together if things got too tough. But, if you can, and are willing, hug your Mom more often. Tell her you love her. Heck, go past that! Tell her why. Thank her, regularly, and genuinely. And, be specific. Tell her why you are grateful, too! Apologize, or confess things you’ve never told her. Most of the time your Mom will be more than willing to laugh off your wrong-doings and choices of the past, knowing that you turned out alright considering. We shouldn’t assume our Mother’s weren’t aware in the first place. Or, that they were innocent all through their days and will be disappointed. Agree to disagree. Compromise about the things you’ve never seen eye to eye about. And don’t just act like that difference between you doesn’t exist. Recognize it – own it. Don’t sweep it under that rug I’ve mentioned before. When you disagree (because you will) do so respectfully. Don’t say things you can’t take back. Especially don’t write mean letters – my Mom did that a lot – and there’s something eerily haunting about unkind words that you can re-read much after the fact (how do they still punch you in the heart like they did the first time you read them?) Ask for her advice, even if you don’t plan on fully using it. Call, and when she keeps you on the phone too long, try not to get exaggerated. Do simple things together, and do the big things too. Ask her questions you never thought you would, to get to know her better. Love her even if you don’t think she deserves it, because I promise you, at some point she likely loved you when you didn’t deserve it, too.
Time is way too precious. I am a 27 year old without her mother. When I have children some day, she can’t hold them, answer a frantic call at 3am when the baby won’t sleep, or babysit. Even though my Mom and I struggled with our relationship over the years, I never doubted that she would make an incredible, magical Gram. I actually looked so forward to it, as I knew our relationship would morph into something brand new and beautiful because of that.
A few years ago, when she retired from teaching and had temporarily beat cancer the first time, she had a stand-up shower installed in a brand new downstairs bathroom. You see, we have a walkout bungalow that walks out to a river where I loved to splash and play as a child. She used to say that after a full day of getting muddy with Gram, that she would stick ‘my boys’ in that shower and just hose ‘em off.
Some day, when I’m hosing ‘em off, you can bet we’ll be talking about her as if she were there.
Thanks, Mom. I’ll never be able to repay you, but I’m certainly going to continue to do my best to make you proud.
If I can do half the job you did as a mother, my kids will be just fine.
(I can't take credit for this, I found it on post secret. Whoever made it is clearly a kindred spirit)
