M is for Mistakes

When you are getting ready to be a Mother, people begin to offer advice to help you avoid pitfalls. However, one of the things that no one teaches you when you go to Lamaze Class, to prepare for the new journey that lies just ahead of you, is how you are going to deal with the mistakes that you will make. And you will make mistakes. The mistakes that I have made with my children are one of the things that I have struggled to forgive myself for. Regret is wonderful when it steers us along to make better choices, but it can become debilitating if anguish begins to loom large. But, imperfection is a fact, and so the mistakes still appear. 

There is no perfect mother, just as their is no perfect child. But, interestingly, as moms we have greater aptitude at forgiving our children for the mistakes that they make than we have for forgiving ourselves. I look at the lessons my children have learned, through the mistakes that they have made and --that's what I see, the lesson. And, then it occurs to me, that's how my Mother sees me. A life full of lessons, not a woman defined by mistakes. So, as the child of my Mother, I get to experience what I give to my children. Mercy and grace. 

The truth is, you never know how much your own Mother loved you, until you become one yourself.

Mothers, we need not be defined by the mistakes that we've made. Because, a long time ago for us, but what feels like a blink and breath to our Mothers, we were the child. 

My own Mother made a "mistake", and I am so thankful she did.  

In the mid 1960's my Mother was busy with her toddler son and his new infant brother, when she realized she was pregnant again. 

Unplanned, an accident? 

A mistake? 

A surprise. 

And, so I was born just the year after my brother.  

Perhaps, she sees me as a prize.

And, I'm thankful in turn, that I followed her lead. 

In the mid 1990's I was busy with two preschoolers and their new infant sister, when I realized I was pregnant again. 

Unplanned, an accident? 

A mistake? 

A surprise. 

And, so my youngest was born just the year after his sister. 

Always a prize.

On Mother's Day, we celebrate Mom, because, let's face it, she is the one who celebrates us everyday.

K is for Kaleidoscope

"Colors spinning, shapes twisting, the change is what makes it fascinating, this kaleidoscope of give and take that begins the day your daughter is born." ~J.J.Sill

I have a mother, and I know her name. I learned her name as a young girl, when she was at work and I was at home.

Reaching up to the phone, attached to the wall, and spinning the dial, I called her office, I called out for her. I had to speak first to the receptionist and ask for my mother. I learned that I couldn't just ask for "Mom". Some of the phone calls were simple, a quick question that she could answer, without too much stress into her workday. Some of the phone calls ended in tears, as her three adolescent children fought with one another, and longed for control. But, the feeling that I remember was that of pursuit. I was chasing my Mother, seeking her time. It was a time of me as the cat, she as the mouse. 

Many years later, when I was a new mother, living six states away from my Mother, she would call me each morning. I would rush to the phone, on the wall in my kitchen, to hear her voice. But, the instant that my newborn daughter would begin to fuss, the phone call would come to an end. She was chasing her Daughter, seeking her time. It was a time of me as the mouse, she as the cat. 

Today, I call from my cell phone, while driving my car, to speak with my Mother, and she asks, 

"What's wrong? You don't usually call." 

My heart sinks. Oh, was it my turn to be the cat? Was I playing the mouse, when I am supposed to be the pursuer. My eyes well with tears, because I know what the future will one day hold for us all. Life is moment. A breath and its gone; am I playing with fire in my relaxed nature of it all?

I sit in an office, on a warm afternoon, and my cell phone rings with a individualized ring tone, announcing my daughter. She's been playing the cat, chasing after my time. I rush through the call, and I take it all for granted. I assume that when the time comes and it's my turn to play cat, she'll answer my  call.

Through the time that I have been both a daughter and a mother, I have watched this paradigm as it changes, swirls and shifts. As a younger woman, I didn't understand it. I thought that the way that we each related would always stay the same. 

But, as I have experienced daughter-hood flowing within motherhood, I understand that the constant will always be change. It's hard for me to purposeful and I don't want to make a mistake. Trust, grace and love have to become the trinkets at the end of my kaleidoscope. I have to look through those shades when viewing my choices, and the choices of the two women who I love more than life. These are the shades of grace and peace. 

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