Mother

It's Mother's Day, so of course, I'm thinking about my mother. And of myself as a mother too, as the two are inextricably linked for me. Here's what I wrote on her Facebook Page:

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being my Mom. Some of the best things you taught me: that loving one's neighbor did not require liking them, to be strong in the face of adversity, how to stay calm in emergencies, to seek information when I didn't know something, and that doing one's best is all that matters. You were and are the best Mom for me. I love you!"

This is not, of course, how I've always felt about my mother. I used to hate my mother. I even stopped talking to her for almost a year, several years ago. We are not, and never have been, best friends, like some friends of mine, who talk with their mothers on a daily basis.

By many people's standards, and mine in the past included, my mother was not a model mother. It is not my wish to slander her, so I will only say this: I was hurt deeply by her emotionally and physically. I think most of the time, it was not her intention to hurt me; I can see that very clearly now. She was simply doing the best she could with what she knew. And, for goodness sake's, she had eight children! As a child, I loved her so much; I wanted to be like her. Then as I grew, I wanted very much not to be like her. Becoming a mother has allowed me to see the ways in which I am like her and the ways I am not, and by accepting both, allowed me to accept her, forgive her, and, ultimately love her as I can today, and in turn, accept and love myself as the mother I am.

I don't know why I so often recall hearing my mother saying, "Jesus didn't say "like your neighbor", he said "love your neighbor" but I can appreciate the profound distinction and wisdom in that statement.

I know that I share my mother's tenacity for life: she stared down many illnesses, including breast cancer, and came out strong. My own illnesses fought were of the mental-emotional kind, but here I sit, mostly stable, rational and unmedicated. I can see now that the awful fights we'd get into were merely two strong women who didn't know their own strength and who thought they could only gain their power through aggression.

It was my mother who taught me to knit and bake, both of which are now passions of mine. And she'd respond to queries with "Go look it up!" which is sort of a mental mantra of mine whenever I want to know something (thank the stars for Google and libraries!!). The idea that one could find information on anything they wanted to know is revolutionary, really. Who cares about how poorly I did in school; I learned the most important thing to know, which is how to access information for oneself.

She always said that she wasn't much of a teacher, but in this case, she couldn't be more wrong. She taught me so many things, things that I didn't know I was learning, and things she didn't know she was teaching.

I would not be the person I am today - a person I like being, most of the time - if it were not for her. And so I can say, genuinely and with love, that she was the best mother I could ever have had.