Bye For Only Now Mom.......

That dollar bill you sent me,

It came on Monday with the mail,

It reminded me of my birthday

And how you remembered it always without fail.

 

I think you tried to show me

How much you cared with that card,

And thank God I got it,

When my life was getting hard.

 

We sailed in and out of each other’s lives,

Capturing moments here and there,

Never letting down those unforgiving walls,

To show the depth of our care.

 

But when it mattered most

Is when you said good-bye

We knew we both had closure

As we both embraced and cried.

 

As you sail to heaven,

With that beautiful smile on your face,

I hear the sounds of your laughter,

It fills me up in that empty space.

 

Forever I will love you Mom,

Forever I will care,

The blessing of you in my life

Is a legacy I proudly wear.

I spent most of my life hating my mother for what she wasn’t instead of loving her for what she was.  I don’t think it fully hit me till she died. Now there is just a bit of an empty space where a lot of good memories could have been filled.  Coulda, shoulda, woulda.  Moments that passed in the wind silently without a lot of forethought.

I was raised by my biological mom for a few years, than an in-house nanny for a few more and then a step-mother for most of my remaining growing up years. I think I was pretty clear where I stood with all of them but my real mother.  I felt like, to the nanny, I was a paycheck but I grew to be someone she loved  to and to  my step-mom,  I was part of a package deal. When she married my dad, she tried to love me but there was always something that blocked the way. And to my real mom, Margie, I never quite knew where I stood. It was easier to believe all of the ugly things said about her by many than to figure out who she was on my own, understand her life choices and accept the fact that maybe, inspite of her demons, she loved me.

This blog isn’t, in many ways, about my mother’s life but about a daughter’s understanding of acceptance of one’s mother.  We moms, speaking from experience,  are not perfect but yet we try to measure up to this immeasurable stick of expectations we put on ourselves and society feeds into. My friend recently said to me that over half the people she has met in her life came from dysfunctional families. She feels the number is closer to 75% plus.  America is flooded with families struggling to survive, meet the demands of life in these complex times and along the way, try to maintain a semblance of normalcy.  It is a hard road to tow.

 For me, I have learned we are all complex beings motivated and touched by all kinds of stimuli, some we can control and some we can’t.  We do the best we can do with what we are given and try to make up for the difference.   Acceptance of ourselves as well as for others for their short-comings is critical to happiness.  Accepting someone else’s misgivings is a closer step to God, fulfillment in a sense.  It shows a depth of compassion and understanding.  It is the goal we should all aspire to practice.

With my mother, she lived a troubled life. She had some mental issues that, in her day, were never addressed properly and thus, she was judged by, yes, even me by an impossible standard to reach.   As she aged and I learned of her many roadblocks, disappointments and weaknesses I saw a beautiful soul that was just trying to do the best she could do with what she had. I am not so sure any of us are that different than my mom, trying to get by on what we know to be true. Her truths were just jaded by life’s experiences to her and her processing of those challenges.   She never got the help she really needed till far too late in her life. When she finally got it, was diagnosed and treated, the beauty of my mother came out.  Along with that, beautiful petals of the chapters of her life became evident, a true understanding of who she was and an outpouring of her life’s pitfalls.

 I am not writing to share those publicly because my mother was a proud woman. She wouldn’t want those shared. But she would want others to know that living a troubled life lends itself to making unhealthy choices. Those choices formulate the story of your life and those around you, and yes, even those omitted from the chapters of your life.   Loss of time with loved ones, and losing a connection to those that should matter in your life simply because of circumstances is a tough pill to swallow. Too often, priorities become jumbled with the tedious parts of living and by the wayside goes the things God would want us to focus on.  We must take these lessons and share.

 What I have learned, through my mother’s death, is the pricelessness of moments.  I am grateful that her and I had the sweetness of our memories to keep us both warm inside as mother and daughter now that she is gone.  I am saddened we didn’t have more. But,  I feel blessed for the closure we both got and the unconditional love we experienced in the end.   I saw the beauty in God’s creation in my mom, finally but in some sense, a little too late. It is far gone the chance to build more memories with my mother. We both stood in the way of that happening for complex reasons at the time that no longer make sense.

 I pray that in reading this you will learn to accept your parents for who they are instead of what you wish them to be. Don’t make excuses for not making them a priority either because you are their legacy and they must know they matter. And remember that it is only through acceptance and understanding can we find unconditional love.

 Click here for Memories of Margie