It feels a little cliche to write about my Mom and Me on Mother’s Day, but, in truth I’m really proud of who we are today, and these words are flowing through my fingers.
This woman here is why I came back to Earth. I remember her calling to me while I was still starlight… “please come.” she said “help me learn about love.” So I did.
Mom came from a family like many in her day – they didn’t say “I Love You,” her dad smoked and drank too much, and her mom a quiet shell of a woman. Mom married Dad at 19. And, like many did in those days, they were quick to have their first child — Me.
I was born in 1967. Mom was still a child full of childhood pain. I came to help her learn about love in a time of need. I was too bright and too loud for her, she’d tell me as a child. So I quieted, and I hid my light… so she would feel safe in her world. It was our agreement early on. And it was also our constant turmoil.
When I turned 18 I knew I would need to heal some things. Mom held the usual guilt a mother does about her mothering. But, I was very clear with her that these are my things to heal. I’ve always been aware of our agreement. These would be my things to heal – I picked them up as I marinated in her womb, like some ancestral luggage to carry with me.
I spent many of my young adult years full of angst. Repressed from quieting and hiding all those years. I followed all of the new age teachers and I learned the bypass game from the masters. But hidden under the layers and layers of the “I’m ok, you’re ok” teachings, I was impatient and judgmental of my Mom. We clashed through my 30s and into my 40s.
When I became a Mom myself, I began to feel very differently. I wanted to be different, but the things I was shown tumbled out of me anyway. I self corrected where I could, found my voice somewhere in the mix of it and managed to heal by learning about love from my Son. And my connection with my Mother grew deeper, we had a common ground to walk and found each other again. We became confidants and friends.
Something fundamental changed when I moved home 2 years ago. I found myself awestruck by her maturity and softness. Especially about my Dad. She knows so much more about life and partnership now. She knows when to bend and when to push. She became a muse, and I a willing student. And, when Dad died, our connection changed yet again to something more matriarchal and mutual.
As I look at this image of us today, I still see the child I met the day I was born. Only now she’s working with it. She’s honest and kind, and finding her own voice and her own light. You see, Mom had to quiet and hide too… and she taught me what she knew.
I’m really proud of what we’ve accomplished together. Alllll this time – 79 years for her, and 58 years for me – we have been learning about love and finding love and healing how we love, together.
red thread yogi 