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Mother’s Day: What It’s Really Like

May 12th, 2010

Mother’s Day was last Sunday, and I’m imagining it wasn’t easy for some people because it is so easy to get it wrong.  For those of you who experienced no feelings of longing, regret, sadness, or mixed feelings, I am truly happy for you.  When our wishes are fulfillable and fulfilled, well, that’s pretty wonderful.

But for some of us, for all kinds of reasons, Mother’s Day is not easy.

Ways Mother’s Day Can Feel Bad

  • If your mother is alive, you probably did something for her, but you still might feel that you didn’t do quite enough.
  • If your mother has passed away, you may regret all the things you didn’t do for her while she was alive or miss her with an ache that is undiminished by the years.
  • If your mother was an unhealed, vicious human being, Mothers Day is at best ambivalent and at worst a very painful reminder of the love you never received.
  • If you are a mother, it’s hard not to have expectations of what your children “should” do to prove how much they love you. Maybe your children got it just right, and you feel well loved.
  • But if your children didn’t get it just right, if they didn’t call at all, or they didn’t talk long enough when they did call, or they sent you something, but it was ordered from a catalog and not bought personally, or if you felt their gift was an obligation and not coming from a generous part of their hearts — oh, so many ways to get it wrong.
  • And if you’re the child and you know your mother has expectations, it’s hard not to get lost in trying to meet those expectations instead of honoring your mother from the center of your heart.

So, if you are the child of a mother and the mother of a child, you’re smack dab in the middle of two powerful, possible Guilt Enhancers.

My Mommy Died an Angel

When my mother died in 2003, we had pretty much worked out the kinks in our mother/daughter love pipeline. The last week of her life was spent chanting “I love you.” I was with her those last few days, and I was able to sing for her a song I had written called, “My Mommy is an Angel.” The chorus goes like this: “My mother was an angel with inhalers and her cholesterol was too high. But my Mommy, she was an angel, and we all know that angels never die.”

My daughter is now 31 and our relationship is still vibrantly interesting.

My Mother Guilt

I did a very powerful healing over New Year’s and got in touch with my own Mothers Guilt. The four-day workshop I attended involved incredibly deep work including hypnotherapy, psychodrama, screaming, crying — intense, it was.

I healed my fear of being like my father and hurting people with my power. This healing has allowed me to step into who I am called to be in a bigger way than ever. I am very grateful.

But I also got to experience a lot of other people’s stories, stories that involved horrible parental, mother abuse. And, while I was never any such parent, I was unhealed when my children were little, and I leaked my rage upon them and their innocent hearts.

My daughter is the older of my two children, and like many older children, she got the brunt of it. I never beat her or shook her or shamed her, but I did lose control of my emotions with her and definitely yelled at her and scared her.

The first time I saw her after my healing workshop, I completely owned my misbehavior for the first time. Though I had thought I had completely owned my misbehavior with her before, I knew when I heard her say, “I don’t remember” in a tiny little girl voice, that she did in fact remember, and her body remembered absolutely.

My owning my Mothers Guilt set us both free. Our relationship has been easier and more free-flowing since our talk. I am completely grateful. Completely grateful.

Healing Hearts

Now on Mother’s Day, since my mom is dead, I don’t need to worry about meeting her expectations or mine. The gift I give my children on Mother’s Day is that I honor all mothers  and mothering in my heart.

I honor myself and all other mothers ,past, present, and future.   I hold my mother, myself, my daughter, who now has baby fever, and my son’s not yet discovered future wife, in my heart. I hold all of our mothering and experience of being mothered in my heart and love it all. The fabulous mothering and the less than fabulous mothering — I hold it all in my heart.

It’s taken me a long time to get here. But I like Here plenty fine.

Blessings,

Vicki

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