With Mother’s Day coming up, I am reminded of the complexities that can exist between many mother-daughter relationships.
There is often hurt, miscommunication, actions not always mirroring intentions, and the plain, old simple fact that we are both women – strong-minded women. My mother and I are certainly no exception to these bumps along the way, but there is no question that there is also always a strong, deep love. As different (or perhaps as same) as we are, the love is always there.
Not too long ago, we had a big bump and there were tears and yelling and silence.
I was hurting. She was hurting. I was angry. She was angry. I’m positive that no one intended to upset the other, but we had. After a few days passed, I decided that I wasn’t going to fix all our relationship issues at once and may never, for that matter. But I love her. And she must know that.
So, I got a potted plant in a ceramic turtle (she loves turtles) and left it on her doorstep with a clumsily written, brief note and left. That afternoon, she brought me a May basket of sorts – something she always tries to do each year – with yellow, my very favorite color – ribbon.
We weren’t going to fix it now.
We weren’t going to solve it all now. But we were trying. Why? Because we LOVE each other deeply. I love my mother and I know that she loves me. ….Afterall, what’s not to love? (Sorry…had to lighten it up a bit here.)
Anyway……
I wanted to share something very personal to me with you – a poem I had written for my mother for a Christmas gift over twenty years ago.
At that time, I was a young adult (yes, I know that you’re doing the math right now and no, that doesn’t make me old) At the time, I was not living at home anymore because my mother and I just couldn’t see eye to eye on just about everything.
But through the tears and arguments and bumps, one thing I could count on -there was always LOVE between us.
Always. And I believe, from the very bottom of my heart, that LOVE ALWAYS (eventually) WINS.
Happy Mother’s Day!
A Gift For Christmas
To give her a gift
I’d give her a song so that her heart will always have the music she inspired.
To give her a gift
I’d write her a letter that thanked her for all her deeds gone unnoticed I really did notice.
To give her a gift
I’d wrap up the ‘peace and quiet” she asked for every Christmas in a big pink box with a purple bow.
To give her a gift
I’d pick all the daisies in all the fields to make her feel as loved and thought of as all the times she brought me
flowers from the store when I didn’t love myself all that much.
To give her a gift
I’d have the magic to bring her to her favorite fun spot in the world to be the child she never got to be anytime she
needed a lift of spirits, but without the chaos and lines so that she may always be first in line for Splash Mountain.
To give her a gift
I’d cry every tear I could for all the pain she’s ever felt, ever seen, ever experienced, and ever will.
To give her a gift
I’d give her the knowledge of all the impact she’s made;
How I am able to rise to occasions
And how I can command myself with language and articulation;
The way I’m able to softly embrace the people I love and throw darts with my eyes to those who dare hurt them;
How I can make homemade macaroni and cheese,
And the respect I have for
Self-reliance,
Being prepared,
“When there’s a will there’s a way”
The other way to skin a cat, and
“Doing unto others as you would have them do unto you”
To give her a gift
She’d know all this and much more
She’d know that when I see her laugh, my heart becomes a little lighter;
And when she holds me close, I feel she’s so delicate
But when she call me Sweetheart
It is then that everything is going to be alright.
Nothing in this world has the power to heal and love as when she call me Sweetheart.
Nothing.
To give her a gift
She’d know that when I run my fingers over a photograph of her, like I did today,
I am taken back by her beauty.
I look at her and I can see who I am
And what I can become.
I can see the impact I may have on this world
In all the little, big ways
And big, little ways.
I can see the beauty I may one day hold, the kind that heals and loves and laughs, not the kind found in a bottle.
To give her a gift
All the love in my heart
and more.
My mother is the most beautiful of angels.
