Letters to Me: This One’s for Mom
My mom died three years ago this October, and I still find myself wanting to pick up the phone and call her, tell her how I’m feeling today, because no matter how we might have fought the day before, when I called Mom she was there for me, she listened and somehow made me feel better. How, at age sixty-five (on July 15th), can I be such an old lady and still miss the mother I often judged harshly, thought I didn’t like, and felt she could have done so much better as a mother? Yet for so many days of my life, I feel terrible and wish I’d had more time to correct so many of my feelings for her because my mom was a good lady—she loved all of us and made us who we are today: good, loving parents.
I know there are many books on “Thy Mother, Thy Self” and as I think about it, I have to admit my mom was wonderful and I am living proof that many of us are so much like our moms. We hate it, we fight it, and decide denial will get us through it. As long as we believe what we think, we’re safe and couldn’t possibly be thy mother, thy self. Therefore we can continue to blame and target her for all the things that went wrong in my life believing most of my failures were my mom’s fault … It couldn’t be me, I would have, could have, and should have, if only Mom hadn’t made life so hard for me. And now I wonder, when did it start and how did it end that I thought so little of Mom when she was alive. Now the picture is so much clearer and all those thoughts and feelings hurt me because, I can never change what was, the things I said, and so many things I didn’t do with her that I wish I had.
Therefore, I tell my daughter all I can do now is never make the mistake again with others I love, and live my life knowing how fragile those times you share with loved ones can be, gone in a heartbeat. So how do I reconcile in my heart and soul there will never be that chance for me and my mom and face the realization that often what we do today or the memories of what we did and thoughts regarding our past are done, we can only improve what we’ll do from this day forward. That’s not enough as I write how sad I am for all that never was for me and Mom.
So if your mom and you, or your daughter or son, clearly anyone who means anything to you today, have any unfinished business, misunderstandings, or ill feelings, I’ll have some better days tomorrow, knowing you can think about what I feel and maybe clear the air before it’s too late, as it is for me at least with my mom. Blessings to all
(This is one of the letters I’ve recently written to myself, there are others, and I wonder does anyone else find consolation when they write what it’s their hearts and minds, knowing sometimes that all we can do to ease the pain or heartbreak we have in our souls by writing down what we feel?)