Which is not to say
that this is a bad thing and I don’t think anything more should be read into
it.
Perhaps there hasn’t
been a story that has triggered me to think of her during my writing – until
now.
Funny how that works…isn’t it?
And so, this story comes along, and within it I find the
perfect set of stairs to climb into a discussion with myself about my mother.
I really enjoyed this story and it’s one that will hang
around with me for some time. It wasn’t
the relationship that the brothers shared or the relationship(s) that the
brothers had with the family of sisters, but the relationship that the sons had
with their mother. These sections caused
me to think of my mother and the mother son relationship I am seeing M and the
boy develop. A relationship so deep and
intense, filled with such love and caring on a level that I will never have
with my son -no matter how hard I try.
And I am fine with that.
As a new parent, I think a lot about raising the boy and how
much effort it requires to do a really good job at it. I also think that it is getting easier and
will get easier but also I realize that there will be new challenges that arise
at each new developmental stage, presenting a whole host of new challenges for
M and I and hopefully, over the years we’ll develop the ability to adapt to
these changes quickly and deal with them without major disruptions.
I am completely clueless as to how my mother raised my
sister and me. As a child, I wasn’t
aware of the “raising” that she was doing, or how her actions…or inactions
would play out in the years to follow. I
wonder if she realized what would or wouldn’t happen with everything she said
or did. Did she give it that intense of
a thought or was she flying by the seat of her pants? Will I look that deeply into what I say and
do as the years go by?
Does my mother look back on the years she spent raising us
and have any regrets?
I can’t imagine that she could have expended so much – and I
should say too that I can’t imagine me being able to expend the efforts and
energy.
But I want that to
happen!
I know that there was a period of time where all she wanted
was for me to open up to her. I simply
couldn’t do what she wanted because I was a moody-self-absorbed teen and young
adult. She wrote me letters pleading
with me to share more of my life with her, she asked me repeatedly on our phone
conversations (from college or when I lived away from home) to offer her
glimpses into my life…and I simply wouldn’t.
As I moved into adulthood, I opened up…slightly, and it took several
years of fully being an adult before I could open up – and speak to her as an
adult should.
I now know how difficult this must have been for her. She gave me everything she ever had – tried
her hardest and I shut down on her. She
was concerned for my well-being as she said multiple times during those
conversations and that concern just didn’t faze me.
I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t given her in
return what she deserves over the years but it’s too late at this point and I
can only move forward on our current course (which is a good one) and let our
lives play out.
My mother is now a grandmother and she has assumed that role
with much success. She spends too much
money on the boy and at times I am concerned that she needs to pull back a
little. She is in a tough space in life
being the caregiver for my step-father and she really doesn’t see us or her
grandson enough.
I wish her life wasn’t so hard. She deserves so much more. These past five years have been incredibly
difficult for her and her mental and physical states are suffering. There is hope that as time passes, that her
world will change for the better, after a period of severe sadness that I am
sure will come after the passing of her husband.
She will be alone, and it will be the duty, I feel for the
children to provide the comfort of a parent, to the parent, as she provided
comfort to us during our periods of loss.