Sunday, May 11, 2014

Mother's Day, The first day of the rest of our relationship.

It's Mother's Day. I feel vaguely ambivalent...and it is devastating me. I know at some point, I will see my babies and we will spend 5 minutes or 5 hours together and it will be all that I could wish for. That part of Mother's Day is easy.

It's the having a mother part that is hard for me. My whole life, it's been a holiday whose approach I dread. The cards? They are all about "always there for me" and "helped me be the strong woman I am" etc, etc, etc. It's not that I disagree with any of those sentiments, per se. My mother was always there for me. She did help me become the strong woman I am. I do love her immensely. But there is still a bitter sting attached to the hows. There is a shit ton of garbage from the past that isn't decomposing on it's own. And it should have by now, if it was going to..with all of the time and pretending it doesn't exist that we have perfected into an art.

I'm 42. I'm lucky to have a mother. She's been through some health crises that scared us both and I can't even begin to imagine a world without her. I absolutely love her. I would do anything for her. I also know that there isn't a single thing she can do about the past...and she couldn't apologize in a way that would be more meaningful, heartfelt and genuine than the thousands of times she has before.

It confuses me so grieviously that I can be grateful and loving toward her and still hurt so tremendously over the past. It's affecting our relationship...and there is sadly not a damn thing she can do about it. The burden is on me. I'm the one who has to do something. I'm the one who has to do the deep soul work to release this shit. It's just so necessary, so beyond its time and did I mention so fucking scary? It's almost as if still being resentful keeps her in line...keeps her from becoming complacent and possibly repeating the past because she got off easy. Easy. Ha. It can't be easy by any stretch of the imagination to be on the other side of this relationship.

Today, my momma is loving and patient. She's funny, generous, thoughtful and kind...but she's sad a lot and I don't know how to help her with her sadness when I carry this terrible burden of resentment squarely between us. That makes her sadder.

Her Mother's Day gift this year is going to be that I'm done pretending. I'm done waiting for that magical moment when the piles of hurt from the past disappear on their own. My gift to my mother, to myself, to my kids and to all of those around me who see how I carry and defend my resentments is that I'm going to do something about it.

Starting today...despite how scary it is, I start where I can...peeking at it as much as possible. It starts with me and it starts today. It starts with an "I'm sorry" for waiting so long and that I'm so unbelievably grateful that the opportunity still exists.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

The One That Got Away

Dear The One Who Got Away,

It kind of sounds like I had you shackled in my basement, doesn't it?

You are my "One That Got Away" not because you were my great love or because there was some amazing future to be had by us as a couple. You are my "One That Got Away" because YOU left ME. That was a first for me. Confusing. Humbling. Ridiculous. And you left me for HER. Pfft.

I'm writing you this love letter to say thank you. Thank you for getting away. Thank you for leaving me. Thank you for leaving me for HER.

I needed some humbling. I needed some lessons. I needed a great opportunity to handle myself with grace and class. With your loving behavior through those worst of times, I emerged able to hold my head up high.

Fifteen years later, the lessons are so clear. Fifteen years later, I'm still able to smile about the time together without there being a pallor dulling things down even one notch.

Dear The One Who Got Away, I know you loved me with all you had in you back then. I know you followed your heart and it's taught me to trust...instead of the opposite. I trust everyone, all the time. I trust for a multitude of other reasons but also I trust that people will do what is right for them in the moment. I trust that I attract strong people who are capable of hurting someone else if it's the best choice in the long run. I trust that when we peaked, it was good. It was the kind of good that brings back a smile fifteen years later.

I didn't learn to run and shut down when you did the loving thing and let me go. I learned that sometimes, no matter how hard I want something, the intuitive level must be trusted.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Love Letter to a Lime Tree

Dear Keffir Lime Tree,

I want you to know that you are where you are ON PURPOSE. I thought about you. I researched you. I called and arranged your delivery. I picked you up and nestled you into my car. After all of that, I delivered you and lovingly placed you into a new set of hands. You'll be cared for well. Very well. You will be fed and watered and admired. There will be worms and mulch and I couldn't do it better myself. You will be useful and you will bring joy.

You represent to me my ability to rise above circumstance. You proved to me that I am capable of letting go. You showed me that I can be completely unselfish and not be attached to an outcome...but that I can imagine and celebrate something that I won't have even a slight glimpse of. Something that for so long was tainted.

I sent you to a place to be with a person I can't be a place that needed to stop having any meaning at all to me. I sent you to grow and fulfill your greatest potential, whatever it is. I sent you because I need to believe in potential.

Your purpose is already fulfilled.

The rest is bonus.

Thank you.