Whew. I just dropped my demanding, detail-oriented, looks 10 years younger than she is, Mother off at the airport after a whirlwind celebration of her 60th Birthday. We drank wine, tried on bridesmaids dresses for my friend's wedding, went to work for a few hours, shopped at her favorite discount retailer, and got lots of coconut oil. I've come to an appreciation of her. My mother has a great eye for fabric, always has an encouraging word, takes whatever pieces of my closet she'd like, and moves things to be just where she wants them.
She's exacting, careful, and mission-driven. Whether it's time to clean, eat, sleep, or get ready, she adores the finer things (if they are on sale). Last night, instead of going out in the cold, she called the family over for an indoor picnic. We had wings, tater tots, wine, and homemade cake. It was the best birthday ever, she sad. We didn't have to go out and show off to other people, just chill in my apartment, make jokes, and love each other. It was beautiful.
A friend lost his mother recently and told me that he just misses "being mothered." There's no one to check on him every 15 minutes or call him out. He misses seeing the pride that she has in him. It's a close loss, a devastating loss, and a painful loss. I can't imagine his pain, but I can't shield him from it. I can just be there. It's complex, but ultimately it's simple.
Our mothers occupy a unique space in our past, present, and future. I am my mother. I'm just as dogged and intense as she is. But, I'm not my mother. I'm not emotional, sometimes I feel like I've aged faster, and I appreciate different things. I don't ask for permission, I take what I want. But, I often find I need to ask for forgiveness. Over the years, we've become more like sisters. We laughed heartily at watching "Downton Abbey." She noted how much it resembled her childhood in England. We went to Zumba together and shook our money-makers. We had a GOOD time. But, I'm also acutely aware, in a new way, that every moment is precious.
Just my Thoughts...
J.
