Growing up or getting old who knows but we don't want to let go. I realize that when I had to let go of my mother, it was me holding on to her, maybe even more than her holding on to me. My daughter sometimes acts as if I am her very best friend, then when her boyfriend is around she doesn't want anything to do with me. Oh Well! The mother daughter cycle. Mind Boggling.
Growing Old, well I guess it is better than some alternatives. I just want to remain young while I do it. I really believe that staying young has a lot to do with how we perceive ourselves. Today I felt young and carefree but tomorrow I may feel old and decrepit. I know one thing for sure my daughter will let me know.
Back sometime ago I can remember telling my mother to do something, oh yea I told her to just get a hair cut but NO PERM! (Only because I didn't have time to wait, I had a pot roast cooking) well she looked at me and was really mad because I told her what to do. The way I see it is that I waited too long to start telling my mother what to do. I must have been, uh, Forty or so. Now days our daughters start telling us much earlier. It eliminates all that independence we worked so hard to get. So now, we are free at last, thank god we are free at last. Excuse me, We are not. We now are answering to our daughters. Sounds like it isn't fair somehow, we had to wait why cant they.
We wanted our daughters to be independent, smart, marry a rich man and give us grandchildren. Even more we wanted them to have us over for dinner. Our daughters are independent all right and they are waiting much longer to get married and give us grandchildren and having us for dinner. I think when they do decide to have us over for dinner it will be interesting. For one thing, from different mothers I have talked to we wont be eating pot roast and mashed potatoes. If I have to guess it will either be vegetarian or organic. If it is organic it will be fresh but we won't get much because it will be more expensive. Second-guess pizza and beer, or Shop Rite Dinner Express. Now that is a good one you go in pick up dinner bring it home, eat and throw away the packages. If we get invited at all, there are those of us who may just have to keep cooking.
Daughters and Mothers, it is a very amusing pattern but where would we be if we didn't have them. I think we would be sad, who would we argue with when we got PMS.
GUILT, Okay for many of us who had to live with guilt we should be pretty good at handing it out. We are merely apprentices in this field but with practice we can become masters at the trade, it could be in inherited but I am not sure. Have you ever tried, Oh that's okay you can go and have a good time dear, I will stay here and make tonight's dinner while you are out having a good time. Guilt, possibly an emotion mothers use to hide there own rejections. I noticed this evening when I felt rejected or disappointed about my weekend plans, that I immediately wanted to give guilt. I would have used anything if I could. I was torn between being sweet and understanding or just start crying. Guilt is easier; it allows you to pass your emotions off on to others. Make them feel rotten and immediately we can forget about what made us so upset in the first place. This way you can switch on emotions other than the ones we are really dealing with. It's like playing hide n goes seek with our feelings.
I always thought I wasn't like that. Wrong, I am just like that. It is a women thing. We need guilt to survive motherhood and as the kids get older and we mature it becomes a necessity to master the skill of guilt. Looking at my own behavior from time to time I realize that I have a ways to go before I would be considered a master but I probably have a BS in guilt for sure.
If my daughter ever turns out to be like me I will not be surprised. I only hope I can be here to see it. Ha Ha !! Love to see that, the only problem is I want be laughing at her. Instead I will be in a different place so I probably will only be agreeing with her. Too bad, it would be fun to say, See you turned out just like me.
Free falling through a desperate emotion to let go. Sounds strange, in a way, but honestly that is exactly what I am doing. Spiraling downward not exactly sure where I will land. I wanted my freedom from the clutches of having to give my where abouts nearly all of my adult life. Now I don't have to answer to my mother, my husband really is to busy to care and my daughter cares but really isn't interested in the fact that I am free falling with no one to catch me when I land. First time I can remember flying solo. I can do it, I think I can I think I can, Juvenile to say the least.
Somehow during our life as a women we become self-reliant self sufficient and selfish. Okay, Maybe not all of us. Sometime during our life we realize that to endure the pain of rejection or the agony of defeat we need our mothers to land on. We can always turn to them for advise, a shoulder to cry on and the sympathy we need when we don't feel good and sometimes we just need our mothers for us so we can take a break from being a mother to having a mother. We fight it; we want our space we want our chance to live our own life. We want that cushion even though we spend most of the time trying to escape from it. Tell me? We are a complicated species. Give it to me straight I can handle it. The men are right, we think too much. We should roll with the flow, yea right, if we did that who would take care of this planet. We want it all, to be babied, to be mothered, to be loved. We want control but we don't want to be controlled. We want to be loved but only if we are in the mood. Daughters will realize when they become a mother how difficult it really is. Until that time we can only pray that we survive the transitions that we go through.
I can only imagine how horrible
it is for those who don't have their mothers long enough to go through
these struggles. I would think that their emotions are much different from
us who are our mother's daughters. They are looking for everything we are
trying to get away from. They want to be perfect mothers and do the very
best they can, only problem is they will inevitably become a mother and
if they have daughters they will struggle with all of the same issues.
The guilt will be bad, as they have the ultimate weapon. When I was your
age I wish I had a mother to argue with. How insensitive that sounds. True
but more than likely I am right. It is the cycle. Human Nature, perhaps.
It is really strange but as I pass through this world,
I can't help but think that the one true person who loves us unconditionally
is our mother. Why must we have this struggle to realize that if it weren't
for their love we would ultimately be truly alone? After all, the women
who brought us into this world really didn't want us to suffer or experience
the pains she had. It is because of the wanting us to be better or have
more than she had, to shield us from the hurts that she had to experience
that has caused all the friction to begin with. I, with all good intentions,
want to protect my daughter from the same hurts I had to endure in traveling
through life. My pain and sorrow will always continue as did my mothers
and hers before her. It is the cycle of life. My mother didn't have the
chance to argue with her mother since she died at a young age, leaving
my mother as only a little girl. So my mother just tried too hard to over
mother. It was her way of trying to compensate for her own feelings of
loss. Unfortunately, we do not learn from others so I will continue to
do the same. I pray only one thing that if I should become ill as my mother
did; my daughter doesn't walk around zombie like as I do. Letting her go
is becoming a difficult chore for me. I don't know, someday if I can stand
seeing her in the condition she is in now. All of my life, my mother
was so beautiful and perfect. Now somewhat disheveled and so confused,
not caring if her make up is on, or if her hair is fixed. So unlike the
women I grew to love and hate. One good thing for my daughter, I was never
so meticulous that she will have to see me looking as good as she remembered
me.
It has been a while since I wrote down any of my emotions. I guess it is getting a little easier for me having my mother in the nursing home. The apartment has been emptied and all of her worldly goods are either gone to unknown places or given to family and friends. The worry of cleaning out the place my mother called home was more than difficult. I must admit that my brother came through for me and we did it. Hooray for us!!! God has given us the chance to share this special moment in time. It will a be a bond of memories for us, not saying good memories but a special link none the less. There once was a time of a very special closeness with my other brother too and even though it comes during very difficult times, it happens and it is a time in my life when I shared something with my brothers that will always be engraved in my heart. If it is at all possible to feel good that your mother is in a nursing home I am at least feeling a relief. I realize now that coping with her illness made me feel very angry and scared. I wont say that it is what I would have wanted for her but since there really is no choice it is a blessing that she is where she is.
During the last few months I have learned to appreciate every moment I have with her. It is a real unpretentious wonderful joy when I see her and hold her. She loves it when I hug her. I think God is giving me a chance to adjust. He has much bigger plans for her or me so instead of feeling like I am loosing her I feel like I have been given another chance to get to know her all over again. She is so happy with simple things and she loves to laugh, we try to laugh when we get together it is simple pleasures. I tell my daughter every time I think of it how important it is to communicate with each other. We don't always see eye to eye. I know one thing for sure she is much more honest with me than I ever was with my own mother. I am more honest with her now...I guess I am not afraid of hurting her anymore. Acceptance, I think that is what it is. She accepts me now for me and I her.
