Mother

Mother. 

Face it. Is any word more emotionally ladened. Our Mother is our friend...our confidant...our role model...our first relationship...dispenser of advice, hugs and band-aids...the person who will have your back when the world has walked away- (Even Timothy McVeigh's mom brought out the oh-so-cute photos on the black and white pony of the early 60's just before he was executed for the horrific Oklahoma Bombing- if only to show us that he wasn't just a monster...he was also once her darling...loved... little boy.)

Yes...our Mother's are our World-

Except when they aren't.

By now we must realize that everyone's childhood is not a Hallmark Moment.

It is with this in mind that I would like to share a snippet of my memoir entitled:  Like Smoke Through A Keyhole.

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"Nothing was ever consistent. Or safe.

The same comment or action that garnered a smile or a piece of homemade cake yesterday, could very well be the one that got me thrown across the room and kicked in the ribs the next. By the time I was 10, she had fractured both of my forearms and cracked several ribs. She cut Grandpa’s worn leather work belt into straps which she used interchangeably on both the dogs and myself on her bad days. Lies were told to the school so I didn't have to strip for gym and reveal the welts from the night before. By fourteen she had held a handgun on me threatening to end both our lives. I stayed quiet, terrified, and gone whenever possible."

 So...this Cafe Moment is for everyone who has ever browsed the Mother's Day Cards and under their breath muttered 

                                            "...yeah...right...as if"

But...as my Grandfather always said:

"If ya keep pickin' at it...ain't never going to HEAL."

And that is sound advice whether it is a scab on your knee from a bike fall...a lost love...or the Mother you wished existed but never quite did.

So...it has taken a lot of Zen...but Buddhism has taught me how to re-frame...to look at my childhood through new eyes...to drop the expectations that could never have been met, anyway. To sift through and remember the moments when she tried to be a good mother (and I believe with all my heart she did try)...and let the rest winnow away like chaff.

She had a rough life. Her own mother (by numerous outside accounts) was horribly abusive...she continued the cycle by marrying her first husband...horribly abusive and an alcoholic...lost several babies...and had raised her surviving son (...my biological father...as she was actually my Grandmother) alone for years)...the same son who had a baby at 17...today she would have been labeled bipolar....and still she took me on just when she turned forty and life was turning around.  Suddenly there she was at 40 with a two year old...starting all over.
I couldn't have done it.
I wouldn't have done it.

Perspective.

And so I broke the chain of abuse.

 Raised three pretty amazing boys. Tried to be the Mother (and now the Grandmother) that I always wished I had. And on Mother's Day, I send her love and light. When she died ( as I believe in reincarnation) I like to think she was reborn into a happier...better...loving life and that it is easier for her. That she has a Mother that ties ribbons in her hair and bakes cookies instead of one that scarred her for life by chucking a piece of stove-wood at her when she was just five. The mother who beat and berated her. The mother who scarred her (emotionally) so much much worse.

So today...if you have (or had) a Hallmark Mom. Be so grateful.

And if not...send them love and light...and remember...it is NEVER too late for a Happy Childhood...or to give One to Others...

Happy Mother's Day!