Reflecting from my finite perspective, I wasn’t given enough years to think of and really appreciate my mother as anyone other than my mother. I loved her and I worked hard at understanding her but she died when she was sixty – six years young so there weren’t many years to appreciate her as a woman, wife,daughter, sister, friend, teacher – all the other facets of her life. I know in my head that God ordains the number of days each of us has on this earth but there are moments when that twelve inch gap between my head and my heart seems immense.
I’m not sure I would label how I feel as “jealousy” but I do periodically wander into “what if” territory when I am around women my age who are still connecting with their mothers. I don’t talk about this much but I have struggled in those particular kind of moments for the past fifteen years. Some comment or event will trigger a memory and for that second, I long for my mother – not only for her presence as my mother but for the opportunity to know her as a woman and a friend.
This afternoon, my eyes are misty and my memories are colorful.
There is so much that I didn’t know about my mother. She died like an unsolved mystery and I mourn that I didn’t acknowledge or understand more of the clues.
Every mother is a mystery until her child begins to see her as more than a mother. The clues are everywhere but it takes maturity, patience and intention to decipher and solve.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to blog- I love to look for God in the ordinariness of every day life – but there’s more. Recently, I had an epiphany of sorts. All three of children read my blog regularly and they are learning more about who I am. They’re learning that I am more than their mother.
I am a Christian, wife, woman, questioner, peacemaker, friend, forgiver, ASL signer, observer, rebel, writer, neighbour, daughter, driver, crocheter, crazy lady, tutor, teacher, baker, believer, sister-in-law, attempter, leader, sinner, grandmother, story teller, forgetter, older woman, counsellor, complainer, struggler, encourager, mentorer, learner, comforter…and yes, I have been abundantly blessed to be their mother too.
I didn’t start blogging so that my children could see me from a different perspective and to be honest, none of them have said anything to affirm this “opportunity for enlightenment” but from where I’m sitting, I lament the lack of opportunity to have known my mother in a deeper way. I would have loved reading my mother’s blog. (I suppose back then, it would have been my mother’s memoires, diary or thoughts on life.) I believe that new windows in my mind would have opened and fresh air would have billowed in. Clues would have been picked up on and mysteries would have been solved.
That “OOOHHHH….I get it” moment of discovery would have been forever savoured.