I imagine that this would be more suitably posted on Mother's Day, but I'm moved to do it now. This Thanksgiving was the second Thanksgiving that I've had now since my mother's death in June of last year. I found myself missing her, and being surprised at the pangs of sadness that hit my heart when the desire to call her and run some things by her, to be comforted and reassured in a way, were met with the hard reality that there's no more phone calls available.
In my work, I have assisted many many people in individuating from the mothers of their childhood, to move towards a path of freedom from the beliefs and hurts that many moms unwittingly create, because of their own wounds. Yet, what of the mothers we have NOW...the mothers who may have grown some, just as we hopefully have? What of the relationship that could be possible with them NOW, if we were able to tender our own inner children's continuing healing from the childhood and adolescence woundings ourselves (with the help of healers that specialize in that...ahem...when needed)?
Our parents are often a difficult relationship at any age, but in thinking of my Mom last Thursday, I realized that I've gotten old enough, and have helped enough other people with their childhood healing, to realize that it may be a good idea not to throw the baby out with the bathwater.
In that spirit, I want to share a piece of writing from a man named Mark Broder, a New Warrior Brother (see www.mkp.org for more info on that, if you want to know what that means), that I wished I'd read before June of last year, so that I may have been able to experience all the gyrations I have had to go through to forgive the mother of my youth (and my adulthood, for that matter) WITH the joys of grabbing the good stuff that was always there between her and I. That's the essence of relationship anyway, isn't it? Being able to work through the crapola, while hanging on and growing the areas of the relationship that are healthy and fulfilling?
Enjoy and please comment...what would you like to share about your Mother's gifts that could help you feel your own heart more?
DATE WITH MOM by Mark Broder
After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love. A little while ago I had to go out with another woman. It was really my wife's idea. "I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by surprise. "But I love YOU," I protested. "I know, but you also love her"
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.
"What's wrong, are you well?" she asked. mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.
"I thought that it would be nice to pass some time with you," I responded. "Just the two of us." She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much."
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.
When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.
I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting."
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.
After we sat down, I had to read the menu.
Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entrees, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.
"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said. "Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.
During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation-nothing extraordinary-but catching up on recent events of each others life.
We talked so much that we missed the movie.
As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed.
"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.
"Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.
A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.
Some time later I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I was almost sure that I couldn't be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two plates, one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you."
At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time: "I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve.
Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."
Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby .. somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "Normal" is history.
Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct...somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.
Somebody said being a mother is boring ... somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.
Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good"...somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.
Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices...somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.
Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother...somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.
Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first...somebody doesn't have five children.
Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery...somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten ... or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."
Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back ... somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.
Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married...somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.
Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home...somebody never had grandchildren.
Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her....somebody isn't a mother.
Pass this along to all the "mothers" in your life...and to anyone that has a mother
