Stop Being A Mother?

I am a mother.

Mercifully, I still have my own mother in a time when the majority of my friends have lost theirs. My mom and I have most certainly had our differences over the years. Big emphasis on differences. But she’s still my mom, and I know that she has always done the best she could to be a good mother. And no matter what my age, I will always be her child.

Many times, I’ve wanted to yell and scream at her, especially when she tells me what I should and shouldn’t do. But I’ve lived long enough to know that she just wants to help, and what sounds hurtful and critical is not meant that way at all. She wants to be relevant in my life, she wants me to be the best person I can be. So, I must let my interpretations of what I think she is saying fall through my mental sieve, and love her. It’s just the way it works for me. Time and experience, wasted anger and rage, have taught me to be the daughter of the woman who would give her life for me. At the end of the day, it’s all about respect. And the fact that my dad would probably whoop the living hell out of me, even at this late stage of the game, if I treated her with any disrespect.

My two daughters are the two best people I know. We get sideways sometimes. I’ll have an issue with one, and after exhausting the topic and getting nowhere, I’ll talk to the other about what I can do – or not do. Mothers are like that; we want our chicks to thrive in the best possible circumstances. And I’ve made more than my share of mistakes, unwarranted comments and offered advice has been misunderstood as hurtful criticism. This part of the mother job is the hardest. And that is an understatement.

Both of my daughters are adults. They are living adult lives. Yesterday, my youngest daughter and I got into it via text; she lives in another city and is making big decisions about the next few years of her life. I wanted to find out where she was in the decision process. Long story short – it ended badly. My opinions weren’t wanted, and I made it worse by pushing and pushing and pushing. Driving home from work, I felt like my skin was going to fall off, I was boiling inside. She was the one who, as a toddler, would press her face against the window and cry hysterically when I had to leave for work. She was the one who would throw up whenever I left town. But she’s an adult now. I forgot.

I’d invited my eldest daughter over for dinner last night. I was still in a swivet when I got home and the story of the day spilled out. She said, “Mom, you’ve got to let her go.” I’d never thought about it that way, but she’s right. The lessons always come from the most surprising places … and circumstances.

So, no matter what, I will always be here for both of them. For the tearful phone calls, for the requests for advice, to feed them when they are hungry, hug them when they are sad, laugh with them when we are amused, help them whenever necessary. Yes, I have to let them go. Hard but doable. This “freeing” process is going to take much discipline on my part. But I’m going to give it my best. I’m quite clear what letting them go doesn’t mean.

I will never stop being their mother. No matter what. Ever.

Be happy. Your choice.

Later.

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13 thoughts on “Stop Being A Mother?

  1. This is a really sweet post! I hope your youngest reads it! 🙂

    • Thank you, ft … she did and took me to task over it. Aghhhhhhhhh…………

      • Ahh..you guided her the best you could and taught her to the best of your knowledge. You can’t blame her for wanting to try her wings. Let her. If she succeeds, you are there to celebrate with her. If she should fall, you will be there to help her get up and try again, but you will have to let her try for herself. I don’t have a kid so I can’t say that I understand the whole thing, but I do have a mother and I like her to trust me as I have trusted her. Have a great weekend and take care! 🙂

  2. Why doesn’t Parenting come with a manual like computers do?? Sometimes it’s so hard, even when we’ve been blessed with the best of role models, to know when to push and when to hold on. I’ve always believed kids need two things — Roots, so they’re grounded in love and the basics, and Wings, so they’re not afraid to fly. Hang in there, my friend. Even when we screw up, the kids manage to forgive us (perhaps they’re more tolerant of our humanity than we are?!)

  3. Well said Izzy … and I hope writing this helped. Sounds like 3 generations of independent, caring women to me!

  4. Great post, wise and well said. I am scrolling backward through your posts because I stopped getting them at some point. It happened with a couple other bloggers as well. I’m going to unsubscribe, then resubscribe.

  5. Both of my kids live in the same town very far away from me. It takes everything I have not to sell what I own for gas money and move to where they are, but I remind myself that they need to grow and become their own people. And then I go get another dog.

  6. “So, I must let my interpretations of what I think she is saying fall through my mental sieve, and love her.” – beautiful. My mom died at age 52, we didn’t have much time to resolve everything but I felt like we were in a good patch when she passed away. Had I used my mental sieve more, there would have been more love, less arguing and those precious years would have more memories. You never know when that last calendar square is coming – for yourself or your loved ones.

  7. Pingback: Stage 3? My Progress | backwards222

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