Dear Mama,
There's this void in me. I'm not sure how to explain it. I have no idea whether it is your lack of presence. I suspect that is only part of it. I feel like I keep trying to fill it - or perhaps cover it? - with something or someone, but nothing changes. It feels like there is part of me missing and I don't even know what part that is. Someone your age just made an entrepreneurial start and mentioned that it felt like everything she'd done in her life was leading up to this ... is this what I'm in search for? And I have to wait 20 years for it? Struggling to figure things out ... and, dare I say it without sounding completely morbid ... just to die?
What's particularly frustrating is that usually, I would pick up the phone and call you, or just come for a visit, have Papa play with Liam and sit down to a cup of tea with you in the living room. You'd ask the probing questions, discuss your own journey, offer your opinions of what my strengths and weaknesses are and then say something along the lines of, "you'll figure it out eventually" with a proud, slightly wry smile on your face, take another sip of your tea and suggest we go outside to join the boys.
On the other hand, I know you LOVED raising us. I know this. I know because you told me. And sometimes, I feel conflicted about the daily grind of childrearing. I know you didn't particularly relate. Which leaves me feeling inadequate. Again. So, do I just think I suck and need to get some self-esteem and patience with myself? What a rut.
Or is it all the pregnancy, and I should just have a cup of tea and not think too much about anything for, oh, another year?
Is this how you felt after your mother died? How ironic is it that my best resource on how to deal with a mother's death is the very reason I need this advice?
Well, I'm feeling the cosmic joke lineage, that's for sure. Have a chuckle on me.
Love,
Mara
I think we all will figure it out eventually. I hope I do. In the meantime, you should check my baby's blog for a surprise. xoxo
Marmar,
For some reason your thoughts about feeling inadequate because the daily grind of mothering doesn't echo the same feelings your mother said she felt (although I'm guessing she said this years later as a reflection rather than during the thick of things) reminded me of something Ruhiyyih Khanum said about pioneering. I remember her talking about how different people went about it and how there were some that would sweep in and teach and establish a community and move on, while others would settle and bury their bones in foreign lands. It seemed an odd, random thought, but I think it pops into my head often when I think about how we each have completely different experiences on this rock. Being a mother who has a life devoted almost entirely to children is no more or less noble than being a mother who works outside the home, balancing different worlds while still caring for and being an example for her children.
Although you have so many things in common with your mother you are your own woman and should feel okay with your own feelings and never measure them by anyone else's. Grace is not just acceptance of your situation, but acceptance of your emotions and your confident, measured reaction to them. “In life as in dance: Grace glides on blistered feet” ~ Alice Abrams
Boy do I ever hear you, Mara. If feels like such a betrayal of the sweet innocent child to not be eternally delighted to simply be with her all day whatever the grind. Lucky are the eternally delighted.
As for the rest of us, well perhaps we have other strengths as parents? Perhaps the best of what we are is what God wanted for our children, and whatever tests we present to them are opportunities for their growth. They certainly are opportunities for our growth, aren't they?
Maybe some of us get our eternal delight on the intermittent delivery plan.
Thank you, everyone for your comments. They all spoke to me.