Maternal Musings

This was my childhood, and perhaps the reason why my mother drove in the distracted, clutch burning way I (and all my friends) recall. I have no two-legged children of my own - I've always been mother to the four-legged, furry variety - but that hasn't kept me from exercising innate maternal instincts to serve, protect, and discipline my own students, niece and nephew, and other young children in my charge, as well as function as surrogate seatbelt as the need presented itself.

In the days and weeks leading to this Mother's Day 2013, I've had the opportunity to reflect on mothers and motherhood in a variety of ways. Age and circumstance does have a way of providing perspective, and Mother's Day is about more than just buying the token gift of appreciation. So, in no particular order, I offer the following musings of a non-mother, middle-aged woman.

Musing 1:  I'm at the age where I and most of my friends are learning to adapt to aging mothers - and sometimes experiencing a bit of role reversal. Once discussion of who is taking Lipitor and acid reflux meds and how much, concludes, the topic often turns to the enormous difficulty of maintaining respect for one's parents while feeling the need to take on a parental role with them. It often feels like a delicate balance between respect and neglect.

Musing 2: Several of my closest friends have lost their mothers recently (from as early as 6 weeks to 2 years ago). We all lost our fathers earlier. And I am faced with the very real prospect of joining them as a member of the middle-aged orphan's club in the not too distant future. It is sad to ponder, but for all of us, we have great memories, and our mothers lived (and in my case, continue to live) full and fulfilling lives. They miss their mothers, and I will miss mine, but our mothers were there for us through the tougher parts of life, and we are all better people for it. I saw a comment on Facebook this morning from an old college friend to another close friend that I found particular poignant - "In general I don't like Mother's Day. It is an unnecessary holiday if we love and value the relationship. But once our mom is gone it is a reminder to recollect and celebrate times past, much like observing saints days. Happy Doris and Daphne day to you." I really like this - thanks, Cheryl.

Musing 3: And then there are those who lose their moms way too soon. I see this with some of my students. Some fare better than others, with great step-moms or surrogate moms. Some find themselves toughing it out in foster care, or with relatives who aren't as supportive as one might hope. I don't always know the details of their stories, but everyday I see the results. I also see the detritus of kids with great, though imperfect, moms - who love them passionately, even if imperfectly at times. I worry about them, because they get angry with their mom's imperfections and lose precious and special moments with their moms during those angry times that they shut them out. Someday, when they are 52 and their mom is gone or aging to the point they aren't quite "the same," they will regret those lost moments and memories. Or worse, the unexpected will happen, and they will lose their mom way too soon, and they will find out too late that they can never get those lost minutes back. I was reminded of that when I read the Facebook posting of one of my strong, smart students on Wednesday: "I want my mom. I want her to come see me sing tomorrow night, and I want to give her flowers on Sunday, and I want her to see me pass junior year. I just want those simple moments. Nothing fancy, just the little things." She gets it. And I'm sad for the kids whose moms are still around who don't.

Musing 4:  My mom and I have never had one of those "warm, fuzzy" touchy-feely relationships. I suppose there have been times in my life where I wish we had.  But, we have always been close, and we have always had the ability to communicate - good or bad, happy or sad. There has never been any doubt in my mind that she loves, and has loved, me to the very best of her ability to love. We are both imperfect humans, and we have both disappointed each other at times, but I don't think either of us has ever doubted that we were there for one another. That's the love part, friends. Happy Nancy Day.

Indulging the Inner Child

Well, the Frau and I bought those iPhones last week. My inner child has been alternately playing and jumping for joy. Thus, the lack of "bloggage." Now the external adult must get back to work . . . :-)

Inner Child or Unclean Spirit

Out of the mouths of babes comes some sort of crazy sense.

Christmas Eve found the Frau, the Mother-in-Frau, the Puppinator and me at my mother's house (with my sister and her fam) for the annual family exchange of carnal commercialism. I'm sure I sound very righteous expressing our little Christmas get-together thus, but this little entry should vanquish any illusions of righteousness on my part. I guess I just need a few moments of confession and self-absolution before 2008 commences.

At any rate, it was Christmas Eve, and my mother was warning the Frau that I am too much like my father and really just an overgrown kid - especially at this time of year. At which point my 11 year old neice and 12 year old nephew commented that it was just my "inner child trying to get out." We all had a good laugh, but the comment has stuck with me throughout the holidays. In fact, you could say I've been letting the essence of it steep like a good pot of tea for days.

I think I'm starting to identify more closely with the warring parts of myself. The external adult part of me loves to give just the right present at this time of year, whether as an expression of love, friendship or appreciation, with no expectation of anything in return. My inner child, on the other hand, wants to purchase these gifts whether I can afford them or not. This part of the equation I've had worked out for quite some time. A new variable seemed to enter the picture this year, though, and it surprised me. The Frau and I had agreed earlier in the fall that we needed to be conservative this year and try to eradicate some debt we've accumulated. To be fiscally spartan for a few months now could result in many months of financial freedom in the near future. My external adult heartily affirmed that course. My inner child couldn't stand not having a few small surprises under the tree for the Frau. My external adult knew that the Frau's adult side is MUCH more pragmatically established and would probably stick to the agreement to hold off on Christmas presents and was perfectly ok with that. My inner child pouted. And pouted. And shocked my external adult. My external adult took my inner child to the woodshed, and reminded that ungrateful child that she has vacations for life in the time share we recently purchased, and that in another month or so (when those bills have gotten under control) she would probably also be the proud owner of an I-Phone. The petulant child finally got control of herself and came out of her funk, but it took a couple of days.

All of this really shocked me - the adult me, that is. I haven't acted that broodingly childish in quite sometime. Whether the adult me is making excuses for the child, I'm not quite sure, but I don't think it was the lack of presents in number or expense that was at issue. Both the Frau and I got more presents than we deserved from our family and friends. We aren't lacking in that department, and are, in fact, quite blessed. But my "inner child" (as described by my neice and nephew) is that spontaneous, impulsive, and sometimes overly generous side of me - and it's the side that tends to be "the giver" at times like the holidays. And I guess I was disappointed that the Frau didn't get "childish" over me. The truth - and I know this - is that just isn't who she is. She is supremely pragmatic, and she is showing her love in far more practical and adult ways - seeing that we manage our money well so this "child" can ultimately have her travels and books and expensive new techno toys. And if she becomes "childish," that takes us off course.

The even greater truth is - I love her - and her pragmatism. As I know she loves (and sometimes tolerates!) my inner child. And while I don't think I need to banish my inner child, I do think my external adult needs to take over some of the child's responsibilities - principally, that of being "the giver." The adult just handles it better.

Silence, Lord, the unclean spirit,

in our mind and in our heart.

Speak your word that when we hear it

all our demons shall depart.

Clear our thought and calm our feeling,

still the fractured, warring soul.

By the power of your healing

make us faithful, true and whole.

~ Thomas H. Troeger in Borrowed Light