My mother and me. When I was her only.
This mother-stuff is so very complicated for some.
I've often said, and kinda half meant: I wish I wasn't so complicated. I'm fairly intense at times. And I feel. Oh, boy do I super-feel. I've heard addicts feel things seven times more intensely than non-addicts. Hurts, slights, dismissals, wounds. I've nothing to compare to, right? So how would I know? All I know is I can feel demolishing pain at any kind of betrayal, whether real or imagined. It's all the same to me. So I talk to people who are just like me and who feel the same sense of hopelessness and sadness and loneliness now and again over, well, the mysteries of life.
Some days I can be over the moon, really happy. Next day, and for no earthly reason, I will wake up in the depths of despair. Analyzing doesn't help at all. Picking up the phone often does and gentle listening and soothing and often laughing at how ridiculous life is, can comfort like nothing else.
I'm guilty of loving my daughters to death and also another "daughter" who, at times, felt more close than my birth daughters. For we do the best we can with the love we have to offer.
But maybe it's not the kind of love that they want or need. I get that. And maybe they've given us all the love they're capable of and there's no more in the bucket or they've moved beyond needing a mother and thus sever all contact.
And that's the part I don't understand at all.
Every day I think of my own mother and how valuable and wonderful she was in all her humanity. She wasn't perfect, none of us are. But I miss her with such an intensity at times it takes my breath away. Her little phrases, her wit, her creativity, her positivity, her support of me, her only daughter for many years in a household of males.
So today, Daughter and I chat for long time. She was upset. Her daughter had broken a promise to take her for Mother's Day brunch. And I felt her pain deep in my heart. But we talked it through, we managed a few laughs over pictures she had posted on Facebook and the lovely things she'd said about me there.
And I focussed on this most precious connection with her.
And then I lit a pair of candles and incense for my two other mother-beloveds locked in my heart but never out of my mind.
Happy Mother's Day to all celebrating on this side of the world.
May your mother-stuff be the size of a lunchbag and not of a trunk.
Sounds more like bipolar. Have you ever been assessed for bipolar? Just wondering because your description sounded exactly like it.
ReplyDeleteHappy Mother's Day. I was thinking that not only is what we give our kids sometimes not what they need but sometimes what they give us isn't what we need. I wish there was an instruction book with each child and one for them on how to treat their parents.
Diane
Diane:
ReplyDeleteThanks, I have a mild form of bi-polar as most addicts do. I dont' choose the medicated route as I flatline so badly and I prefer the swings which are somewhat alleviated by mega-dose of Vit D.
Yes, *sigh* instruction books with everyone, I think. I sometimes get so lost as to why some behave so weirdly and cut me off.
Thanks for the good wishes. And backatcha.
XO
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This holiday is fraught with danger. When my mother was alive, I would scan a gazillion cards for one that sounded like I cared without saying a bunch of lies gooey stuff about a mother who was none of those things. We were alienated. We didn't like each other much. There were no cards for that.
ReplyDeleteSo glad that you are a writer and you keep a blog and you tell good stories.
love,
v
Size of a huge trunk, I'm afraid. And since she's still around, always tense. But I would not cut her out of my life, in spite of the many, many hurtful things she's done. I can't.
ReplyDeleteHi Verna:
ReplyDeleteI got that from your post. What is it about these complicated relationships? I'm missing the instruction book too. My trials were with my dad.
And I loved your posts about your oh-so-young father when he was alive. :)
Thanks for the lovely words.
XO
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SAW:
ReplyDeleteI have a very close friend with the same issues. She keeps her mother at a distance with very clear boundaries but doesn't cut her off.
Cutting off is the hardest to take.
Especially when there is no visible reason.
XO
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Having daughters of my own opened my eyes to lots of things about my mother. I wish we'd been closer, but now she's gone and my "WishIwoulda" list is very long...
ReplyDeleteLove that photo of you and your mum!
I have not forgiven my mother for who she was, although she has been dead for many years. I do not fret about it and it does not take up a lot of space in my head. I adored her for some time when she was alive, but changed my feelings about her after she passed away. I think mothers are partially monsters and often ill equipped to do the job. I think there ought to be a very strict state exam.
ReplyDeleteI'm hesitant to comment for fear of sounding Pollyannish but once I got over my self-absorption during my teen years, my mother and I developed a wonderful relationship. She's been gone 30 years and I still miss her. I am close to both my grown daughters. There have been tense moments now and then but we talk through them and have developed a strong and happy rapport. My three granddaughters and I are close, as well. The oldest claimed at a very young age that she and I were attached by a silver cord that could never break. I am beginning to realize just how lucky I am.
ReplyDeleteMolly:
ReplyDeleteI think being mothers of daughters opens up our minds like nothing else can and gives us a brand new understanding of our own mothers.
Yes, I too love that pic of mum and me.
XO
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Irene:
ReplyDeleteOuch - that's a bit harsh, I wouldn't generalize "all mothers" but to each her own. Individuality is key.
One of my therapists said to me once "Understanding means there's nothing to forgive."
I understand, so there is nothing to forgive. What a gift.
XO
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Pauline:
ReplyDeleteYes it's all the draw of the cards isn't it. Second Daughter and I were close for years and years and it was in her thirties she pulled away from all of us. Third Daughter severed contact without reason and has behaved hurtfully since then, offering renewal and then pulling away when I respond.
Life is inexplicable at times, baffling. Like you, I cling to the good moments and count my blessings.
XO
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Mine is definitely a trunk.
ReplyDeleteAll I feel when I think of mum is frustration at never having got close enough to talk.
My kids don’t bother much with Mother’s Day. I always did with my mum. Weird eh?
What helps the most is if each child is a wanted child.In my experience it's the little "accidents " who have the hardest times with their mothers.
ReplyDeleteUnderstand so much you share.
ReplyDeleteThere times I did not understand but then she had me at 18 years old. As time went on and I grew older I suddenly realized what a child she was. She passed away 13 years ago at age 82 and was calling for me at that moment.
I know she loved me but was a mother only in her end years.
Your writing touches my heart...
Friko:
ReplyDeleteLife is very odd indeed. My mother had an expiry date with a terrible cancer so we got extraordinarily close.
XO
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Hattie:
ReplyDeletethat's a very interesting observation. You could be right!
XO
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OWJ:
ReplyDelete18 is so very young. I can't imagine my granddaughter having a child.
So glad you reached understanding later on in life with your mum.
XO
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Something strange, and for the first time in 42 years happened. On Mothers Day, my son came down in the morning gave me a big hug and said "happy mothers day". I must have looked funny because he explained that I am both father and mother to him and he is grateful. You can imagine the rest of the day for me.
ReplyDeleteRamana:
ReplyDeleteYes the day finally comes when the kids wake up. Well, one of mine did. The other two will in time (one can always hope, right?)
Your comment brought me tears. Happy ones.
XO
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Learning to travel with our baggage and insert a few items to freshen it up now and again keeps life interesting.xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteOrla:
ReplyDeleteyes, good air-fresheners and mothballs keep it all humming :)
XO
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