not only in the States WP…
The Daily Prompt.
Today is Mother’s Day in the United States. Wherever in the world you are, write your mother a letter.
Photographers, share a photo that says mothering.
I’m indeed not going to write mom a letter. I cooked for her today. Well, mostly. She did the finishing touches, and made the dessert, and we all had a relatively peaceful lunch. I will write about her, and about being a mother though.
Having kids, giving actual birth to them, is hard work. It hurts like a bitch. You have a bunch of people standing around your nether regions, looking into a place YOU don’t even get to look at, unless maybe, if your lover is very nearsighted and has to wear glasses all the time.
So, giving birth is not romantic. It’s not pretty. It’s messy and violent, and probably the most rewarding thing you will ever do in your entire life. I’m talking only the actual birth here, once the kid is out it’s even more messy and violent, not to mention alcohol abuse inducing.
But being a mother is, to me, unlike anything. Yes, you struggle. Sure, you screw up. But you always try your best, under any circumstances. Kids can feel if their parents love them. They know what’s going on in your subconscious on a very basic level. So, even if you don’t say a negative word to them, they can feel your energy, and will react accordingly. I’m forever uncertain about if I did right by my kids. If I gave them sufficient tools to manage the outside world. If I gave them enough lessons so they can understand right from wrong.
I think my mom did a relatively good job with me – even though I faltered, I’ve usually gravitated back toward the road that is almost straight. She’s the one I phone when I hurt. Be it physical or emotional. When I had my singular operation, she was the one that came to fetch me from the hospital. When I had the most awful stomach cramps, before the operation to remove the cause, she was the one I phoned to take me to hospital. She’s the one who hugged me tight after old Sash left earth, and I know she felt my pain.
Quite like I feel my kid’s pain when they go through a break-up, or when they struggle to make sense of their lives. Once the kid is there, you can never put them back. They walk around with your heart in a backpack. Make you worry that they won’t get home safe, or that somebody will break into their houses. Worry when they lose a job or get fired or just feel miserable. Once you’re a mom, all those things are par for the course. You can’t change it, you can’t go back, you can’t fix it. You just have to adapt. let them go. Let them make their mistakes, no matter how hard you know it must be for them. You cut the strings – because that’s part of your job as a mom. To keep your kids with you at all times, tethering yourself to them is just unhealthy. They must spread their wings, and get them burnt in the process – it’s part of life, and something they can’t only appreciate after you’re let them go.
And then you get a day like today. I’m tired – only went to bed at 3 am this morning, and was up again at 8 am. I did not look forward to Snipey Sis’ company. I did so not look forward to all the cooking I had to do. And then my son got here with a gift. A candle holder and a photo frame. The candle holder to light a candle for old Sash, and the photo frame to put a picture of him on my bedside table – such a very thoughtful thing to do. Why? Because he knows his mom. He knows how deeply the old man’s passing hurt us all, but especially me. And he tried to do something to assuage the hurt to the best of his ability.
And I think, that’s how you know that you did not screw up too much. That you did give them the tools to see other people’s hurt. That you raised sons that can hold their head high in society.
And even though I’m not the world’s greatest success story on many levels, I’m still holding it together. Because I still have my mom to lend an ear when I feel down, or make me a cup of coffee when I need to run away from the world. and me, in my turn, give her a place to run to when SHE needs to run away for a while. And she did give me the tools to weather the storms.
So, thanks Mom. You are still with me, even though I’m not always a daughter to be proud of. You always listen to me, never complain when you have to help me with anything – you are still my mom, and without you, I would be even more lost than I am now.
And because Elvis is my mom’s fav, and this is quite a lovely song, here we go then – Happy Mother’s day ladies 🙂