What I Learned from my Mother
My head is filling up again.
Last summer the to-do lists took over with tyranny. Every morning I sat up in bed and my brain powered on to reveal a never-ending to-do list or decisions to make or stuff to think about. But finally, we are slowly settling into our new home, finding our feet again, and I am not using the GPS as much anymore, my compass re-set.
I found a page in my journal of topics I would have liked to write about- on three different blogs. The ideas no longer seem fresh, the intense moment gone, but can be re-kindled. I still have things to say. Thank goodness. I guess that means I am still alive. I finally exhaled.
I read Julia Kasdorf’s poem and I wonder what my children learned from me. I know that since the summer of 2007 their biggest lessons could be: bad things happen. It is ok to cry. Mommy can be weak. Mommy can be so in pain she swears and rolls about on the floor. There are kind people always. Friends come and go, at least some of them.
I cannot teach you anything, that’s what I tell them. I can’t teach you, you will learn by yourself, because you want to. So I am not sure what they have picked up, and what they have internalized.
But I sure hope, that there will always be this softness and this grandness in their hearts, to reach out to the grieving with humble open palms, to abide with sorrow, to walk gently along. To live with an alertness and wide-open eyes, because we don’t know when. The moment is now.
But you know what? How I yearn to teach: to hold Ferdinand’s hand as he makes his first squiggly line, to hear his voice repeat my words, to point to a bird, flower, and leaf and say the name.
Ferdinand. I still miss. He fills my entire heart today.
Strangely, it’s my son’s birthday today Janis, so I’ll overflow my heart to capacity with Ferdinand, too.
I really really hope I’ve taught Bella compassion, and that there are things worth crying about, and I guess in some sappy way I never imagined possible, love. That my love for my children is never-ending, even for the dead one.
Miss you, loved finding you in the reader this morning.
oh my, did another year just go by? I still remember the photo from his first birthday on your blog, so overflowing with joy and glee. Happy Birthday to Ale!
I’ve missed everyone on blog-o-sphere, but especially you, your posts always make me laugh and cry. Sending warm thoughts your way.
So good to see a post from you in my reader, Janis. ((((HUGS))) : )
Thinking of you today and always. Meaning to write, but not finding the time or the words. soon.
Thank you for being a mother who loves with all she is, who tames no part of herself but stands born open to the truth of life’s wholeness. Thank you for your tears and your ability to be present. Thank you for living with complete devastation of the heart and still keeping your eyes on love. Thank you so much for sending a voice out into the world not knowing whether it will be heard and allowing us to walk in the power of togetherness. Thank you for showing up every single day and being a mama to your girls. Thank you for the continuous outpouring of your deepest being towards Ferdinand, who surely receives it. Thank you for making love so strikingly evident in all ways. Thank you dear mother.
I love hearing from all of you. It has been difficult being away from the net.
Dear Wind, thank you for posting your beautiful words. I almost feel undeserving, and so small in your awesome beauty and big spirit, it makes my day to hear from you again.
Thank you for sharing the poem.
Are we all circling back these days? Is it Mother’s Day?
Glad you survived the move and are readjusting. Rough, no?