MOTHERS
birth mothers,
earth mothers
stepmothers
awkward roles assigned
archetypes embodied
stereotypes enacted
primal roots
patriarchy
tribal law
we carry bits & pieces
cluttering the present
with long forgotten fears
Maybe three years ago, Kelly decided she wanted to call me Mom. We agreed, but I had no idea what that would mean to me as time went on. That simple word turned out to make demands, stir fears I didn’t know I had, and trigger roles I didn’t know I would take on…
Nurturing Mother: As her disease progressed there were times she needed a nurturing mother, not a stepmother, not a friend. She wanted the “just hold me and make it all better” mother. The mother she needed when she was 3, 10 or 13 years old, but never had because of her birth mother’s illness. And worse, I couldn’t be that for her. I’m not a cuddler. I just learned how not to duck when a friend goes to kiss me. I can hug. But what I am wasn’t enough. I felt lacking in the deepest way. I’ve been working through my own sense of shame (I just figured out it is shame) that I wasn’t more in those times. It’s getting better.
Responsible/socializing Mother: And then there were those times I responded to “mom” by trying to socialize her (a little late in the game). She felt criticized, and she was. The unconditional love she needed was absent. On reflection what surfaced were primal fears of distant times when daughters who violated the tribal norms were stoned. Free spirits were not rewarded. It was dangerous. Mothers who failed were shamed.
Where did this deep compulsion, this tribal consciousness for conformity come from? My Mother’s version was “What will the neighbors think?”. How many generations has this fear been passed along, unconscious, under the guise of being a good mother? How did I not know?
Once seen I could shift and that surprised me as well. Awareness again brings freedom.
Mom: And then there were all the times when she was just my daughter, my heart open. 
It was clean, without old tapes. It was love. For these times, nothing much needs to be said. Actually, nothing much can be said. Those times just were. Love just is.
Life’s gifts: My time with Kelly was, and is, humbling. I saw how much I could give, but also how much I couldn’t. I was a doer. My caring could have a sharp edge. I’ve had to remind myself over and over, we’re all full of paradoxes and imperfections, and to not discount what I had to offer because of the things I couldn’t. I’ve had to learn to stop trying to fix me, so I could stop trying to fix everyone else. Self-Acceptance! Sounds so simple. I’m closer as a result of my time with Kelly: greater awareness and greater acceptance, even of what is unfinished….not bad.
Thanks for your honesty, Barb. I’m learning similar lessons while caring for my 103-year old mother. I like to live in my head — almost everything I do for enjoyment can be done alone or maybe with one not-too-demanding other. My phone coaching practice has its built-in distance. Most everything else I do is handled by email or phone. I’ve admitted and regretted my faults as a mother and now face the same in my view of myself as a daughter. I had to seek help, someone I can lean on and learn from, and who recently helped me get in touch with some very deep shame. As a perennial loner I’ve assumed this is a karmic lesson. Luckily there are moments of self-awareness and even joy. But it bothers me when people say what a wonderful daughter I’m being. I’m a daughter. There’s no “wonderful” to it, just me plodding ahead moment by moment, day by day, with oh-so-many lessons.
This so parallels my journey Mary. It helps to hear another going through similar struggles. I understand it’s hard to hear the “wonderful daughter” though I suspect you are….it’s just that you know the “rest of the story,” the “not so wonderful daughter.” Paradoxes, both true……and life holds it all. Love to you!
That was lovely…
Thanks Terri.
Barb that was beautifully spoken from your heart! As I read it, I recalled times when Kelly and I had conversations about Motherhood. She realized the sometimes difficulty that you were experiencing and worried about that. Kelly was very lucky that she had you in her life and expressed that to me many times as we grew closer! You fulfilled all of Kelly’s wishes. Taking on her babies was a relief to her and you did it with welcomed arms. Thanks for being her caregiver when she needed it the most. God bless you!!
Thanks for sharing this Sandy. Kelly was special and grew so much in her own awareness through her illness. Blessings all around.
I’m awed by your capacity for reflection, your openness to sitting with whatever arises, and your willingness to put it out there in the world. You’re my guiding spirit! Your experience gives me the courage to take deeper dives into my own. A very heartfelt thank you.
Thanks!
Barb, that was one of your most powerful writings. I feel it resonating all over my body. I am in the odd position of trying to mother my mother and all of this is the same. Bless you my fearless warrior friend for putting this into words.
Beautiful, moving, real. Brought tears to my eyes.
Thank you for sharing yourself so openly, Barb. You know yourself well, and can be yourself without need for apology (great modeling for the rest of us!). May future insights and reflections land gently on your tender being. Love to you.
Beautifully said, my Sister!
So courageous you are – in your journey with Kelly, and in your journey with yourself. Your words resonate so deeply, so honestly, touching me, and so many of us. Huge hug to you, my dear friend.
You are beautiful!!!!! You really are a free spirit inside and you are coming out. I am excited about that. Kelly got the best of you and she got it when she needed you the most. I wish I had had a mother like you. Smart and respectful and thoughtful and so good at getting the right kind of help in place at just the right time. So nonintrusive and so deeply accepting. I hope you will celebrate what you have done soon. Celebration builds our self-confidence and courage, these are basic necessities as we live life openly. We must celebrate and have joy for what is. I am so fortunate to know you, Barb.