Mothers Day Redux
Yes, I’m a mother. Yes, I’m a grandmother. No, I’m not celebrated by my child or grandchildren on Mothers Day. I do, however, receive a bouquet of flowers from my son. In a text. As an emoji.
Well, it’s better than nothing and more than I received when the estrangement was at its most distressing.
We’re slowly healing now. My son and I talk and I see my teenage grandchildren. It’s better. Absolutely.
The challenge is to make it good, ok, enough. If I hold my son to the cultural and social standards of how Mothers Day should be celebrated, I’ll just wind up disappointed. So, nope, not gonna go there.
I have to accept this on my son’s terms. I have no say in how or if he acknowledges me on a holiday that was created to honor mothers. I really must stop beating that poor dead horse and allow things to be just as they are. I can’t change him or influence his choices.
Recently, I was reading about inner child issues and how important they are. I have resisted this in the past and only participated in workshops focused on the inner child when I had to for school or work. I was usually bored and thought it a bit silly.
Until I went deeper.
We all have that child within us. Most of us have unhealed childhood wounds and traumas and live our lives trying to outrun the pain. With that in mind, I decided to talk to my inner little girl and had some surprising revelations.
Without going into memories that came up of the emotional abuse and neglect of my childhood, I started talking to my little girl. I comforted her; promised I’d never leave her. I told her what happened wasn’t her fault, that she’s lovable and beautiful and adorable. I told her everything I wanted to hear when I was a child, but never did.
I was amazed to discover that this bit of work was very moving. In fact, I was moved to tears. This was a turning point for me because I finally understood how traumatized I was and still am. It looks like I still have a lot of work to, which is fine. I’m here on earth to learn and grow.
This Mothers Day, I will mother my inner child. I will comfort her, love her, and hold her close as a mother does. I will ask her forgiveness for all those times I left her alone in the dark.
My son will probably send a me flower bouquet emoji, maybe even a heart. And that’s just fine with me.