Mom.. I promise…
Well, what would I promise, I do not know, what would you like me to promise I do not know that either. Somewhere the word promise in itself seems so shallow, it feels like a word used, when you know you are not going to keep your word. Anyway that is not the issue.
I do wonder what I could promise you. I mean you are like a hurricane in its perfect power, or climbing, falling colours of a rainbow… with description wonder what would be a perfect promise.
Of course mothers and daughters with strong personalities do see the world from very different points of view. Well lets not applaud our the strength of our personality, but I think our life challenges and demand does alter our point of view one might choose to call it a generation gap.
From your point of view it makes life simpler if you go with the masses, and acceptances is easier, from where I see it, concentration on what everyone thought of me, I might forget who I really am, what if the face I showed the world turned out to be a mask… with nothing beneath it?
It is demanded of every mother to fall into a pattern, the self sacrificing, the dictatorial, the weak, the bohemian, maybe we demand that the mother changes herself befittingly. Well, what we do not really account for is someone who is really devoid of the extreme attachment of the umbilical cord Probably there is nothing in human nature more resonant with charges than the flow of energy between biologically alike bodies, one which has lain in amniotic bliss inside the other, one which has laboured to give birth to the other. The materials are here for the deepest mutuality and the most painful of estrangement.
In a way I am blessed and I could not be more grateful. Do you want to know why? Because I’m a mother but is only half the story, I’m blessed because when I need I can still just be a daughter. I get the feeling there is nothing more precious than to have both these roles simultaneously.
I understand today, that as you grew up where you did, it was like there was a faint chalk lines traced approximately three inches around your entire body at all times, drawn by society, and foten religion (not that it bothered you) and family, and particularly other women who somehow feel invested in how you behave, as if your action reflect directly on all womanhood. This maybe was the guiding light for the demands and expectation that you made on me. I realize now that I need to stop punishing you for something you could not help… because something’s happen to people and they are not equipped to deal them.
How about us liberating ourselves from any form of control. How about us focusing at the inner drum where the rhythm aligns with that our heart. The measure of responsibility equals to the need of resolution. Lets listen to the inner child, let it whisper in our ears.
I promise to accept you just the way you are, as a person, sans the mask of a mother.
prompt Mom I promise.