My First Mother's Day

In After the Fall, Arthur Miller writes, "The word 'now' is like a bomb through the window, and it ticks." Isn't that true. How do I embrace and live fully in the now? My prayer this Mother's Day, and, really, every day, is "Oh, Lord, may these days go slowly and be full of joy."

While I look forward to knowing my Ella as a girl, a teenager, a woman, I feel the haunting ache of missing of her, of moving on, of being old.

I also ache because the relationship that I have with my own mom is so devoid of intimacy. I pray that this will also change, but I have to realize that it quite likely will not. I love my mom. But I am sad that, as I read others' 'Mother's Day blogs,' I see lists of "what I learned from my mom" or the like, I feel that while I do have a list of 'what I learned,' they aren't all great. In my journey, I have felt guilty for not 'respecting' or 'loving enough,' or 'insert guilt-induced-phrase here.' She did rock me, love me, stay up for hours with my nosebleeds, and was, in general, a wonderful mom, doing the best she could with the past she has. But that isn't any reason to lie to myself. So, please understand that while you may feel that this is a mean and ungrateful thing for me to be doing, that it really is necessary for me, and that I love and respect my mother perhaps more than ever before because of my honesty.

Things my mom taught me:

• To love learning.
• To love reading.
• To read to my own kids at bedtime. And read the same book again and again and again.
  
• That wearing makeup doesn't matter.
• That careless car mishaps are the reason we have car insurance, and aren't worth being too upset about.
  
• To never want anything in order to keep from being disappointed.
• To never share your feelings out of fear of making someone mad.
• To never be a student of yourself. It is too painful and you shouldn't want to actually change.
• To avoid confrontation.
• To sweep uncomfortable things under the rug.
• To insulate myself from friends--they are not to be trusted or confided in.
• That any man is going to be unfaithful, and we women are meant to endure it.
• That work is more important than family.
• That emotional intimacy is dangerous and will be used against you.
• That your husband isn't really on your team.
• That she doesn't really have an interest in knowing me, just an interest in assuming she knows me.
• That money is a mode of love.
  
• That I am incapable of doing anything without her help.

I pray that my children will always know that I am curious to know who they truly are. That they will never feel like there is a 'thing'--work, hobby, etc--that is worth more than they are. That they will know that my husband and I are co-captains, independent people, and in love. That they will know that honest communication sometimes means hurting others. That they will know that sharing yourself is dangerous, but necessary. That they will know what grace looks like. That they will know that being angry with someone does not mean there is any removal of love. Really, I suppose I pray that I can define family in a much different way that I knew.

I remember as a child, perhaps I was ten, saying to myself "I want to marry someone who is a good communicator." Of course I also wanted someone handsome, who would be a good father, creative, and, oh, and the list goes on. But I remember that one request above the rest. And, I only recently remembered this--all within the process of differentiation and growth in our marriage. I sat back to realize how blessed I am to have a man who is the one who made me a mother, the one who will cooperatively raise our children with me, who challenges me to be a strong, confident, independent woman, and who, regardless of the pain and frustration, has taught me how to communicate, to be a team player, and how to share myself.

So, basically, as I look back on my first Mother's Day, I am overwhelmed:

• Thankful that I have my mom, and that we have the opportunity to beautify our relationship.
• Thankful for a husband who has allowed, guided, and helped me to become the woman and mother that I am.
  
• And thankful for my precious Ella, a beautiful and fiery girl whom I am excited to get to know more every day.