For my mother, a little late

For those of you who don't know, I'm very close to my mother. I tell her just about everything. Physically, we're very far apart, but many a time she has emailed me or called me to say "I had a dream about you last night" or "I had this feeling all weekend long..." only to find out that she was right on point, that I was dealing with something, and she was feeling it from 2000 miles away. I believe in connections like that. I came from her body, I think it's only natural we would be able to communicate that way sometimes.


So, my mother has been a large part of my recovery. We don't agree on everything with regards to how I view the past, but she has been supportive throughout. And so I wanted to acknowlege her gift to me, not only of my life, but of the continued fight for it this (day after) Mothers' Day.

Mom:

Thank you for showing me what a strong woman looks like, acts like, and how one carries herself. You were a single mother. That's a hefty calling. And you got a degree, held down relationships, and were there for your kids at the same time. Whoa. I know it was exhausting. Thank you for doing it. It is the reason for my independence. I have learned, for the most part, how to let others in, and let them do for me. But I needed that DIY attitude for a large part of my life, and you are a large part of the reason for it.

Thank you for nurturing my childhood. The parts that were good, that were fun and were carefree, I associate with you. Thank you for showing me what protection looks like, and showing me the impulse of a mother to stand in front of a violent onslaught to shield her child. I carry it with me, I have it in me, and I will give it to my children. I know what it looks like when someone would give their life for another, because of you.

Thank you for correcting the behavior in my life that was wrong, for telling Wesley that he could not talk to me or treat me the way he did. Seeing you tell him that showed me that I could in turn tell others that, set my boundaries, and not allow myself to be abused, once I was old enough to protect myself. And thank you for telling me when I was being destructive, and abusing myself. You are a large part of my taking responsibility when I was doing the damage.

Thank you for that night when you said "You can't go out with him." And I went inside and threw myself on the bed with the dramatic fervor that only a 15 year old can muster. And you stood there, and said "You can be mad at me, but you're not going." And I heard what you didn't say. "Someday you'll thank me for this." And here we are. It showed me that its the parents who set boundaries, who say no, and who weather the anger of their kids that raise the ones that do alright. I will translate that to my future children. And they will do alright too.

Thank you for holding your tongue when you wanted so badly to say "Don't do that!" Whatever "that" was. Whether it was going away to college, getting married, or acting out, you were not going to stand in the way of my learning processes once I got past 18. And I don't think I would be where I am today if I had been shielded from my decisions the way some are. The wounds heal, and the skin behind is tougher. And you were right, no one could tell me anything when my mind was made up.

Thank you for marrying my dad. I know you put up with a hell of a lot to have us. I'm glad you did. Thank you also for acknowleging down that road that he had not been emotionally available to me as well. And for trying to fill in the holes.

Thank you for helping me lay down my roots in the rocky soil. They had you to hold on to when the waves came.

Thank you for never letting me forget that you love me, for telling me over and over, for writing me letters, for all the pet names, for everything that let me know I am loved, even when I couldn't feel it, when I didn't want to feel it, when it was easier to think no one cared, and that I didn't effect anyone, that I was an island. You were bent on convincing me otherwise. And it took. I can hear and feel it now.

Thank you for hearing me when I finally untwisted all the pain and stopped yelling. Thank you for hearing me when I yelled. Thank you for hanging up on me when I wouldn't stop. I know I put you through a lot. You were steadfast and didn't leave my side, even when I wanted you to. You are my rock.

For so many other things, and for the many things to come, thank you for being my mother. I will be a good mother because of you. I think that is the mission of all mothers, to pass down the nurturing to future generations. You have mothered my future children, and my children's children, by your deeds. I love you tremendously.


Jenny