Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Forgiveness and Acceptance

What I wish I would have had clarity to say to my mother after she told me to "go see a doctor" for telling her I didn't want to do it anymore:

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Few things bolster up enough spirit and push to keep motivated with the menial parts of life. You know those parts well if you're a mother, a housewife. We all reach a brink of enough. Where you do what needs to be done until you're blue in the face and declare with as much child-like fit as you can get away with- "I'm done", "I don't want to do it anymore" or "I quit". Spoken verbally or not.

If you're honest, you've had at least one of these moments in your committed relationships. A moment where amid tearful distress of inadequacy, failure, or boredom you believe there is more that defines you then the menial. There has got to be more!

Haven't good housewives, good mothers felt these periods of personal loss?

What about the mother idling in her filled-to-the-brim minivan next to you at the stoplight? She looks happy, content with it all. "Be happy and content" becomes your new mantra. A woman seen washing dishes and wiping continuously dirty counters in her dim lit kitchen seems normal. Could you embrace normal with a dishcloth on your shoulder and a wet rag between your fingers? You know you have talents and abilities beyond the daily grind that are screaming to get out of your head and be utilized. Energy and drive to chase your dreams until you sit down on any given surface for two minutes too long and find your mind spent from dreaming, your body tired from the toil of the menial.

Hitting the pillow you lie down with heavy eyes and heart praying that upon waking with the sunrise, you'll be given strength enough to do normal, to do content happily, one day at a time. Praying that patience will still your dreams of tomorrow for yet another season while you fulfill your dreams of yesterday. Even the menial that was hidden in the soil underneath yesterdays greener grass you wanted so badly to grow.

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What I expected from my mother was a you're not alone speech, a "You can do it, keep going!" An "I've been there before, in fact one time I..." or a "Mrs Full Minivan and Dirty Counter Washer at one point have felt the same way, they've just never voiced it." from my mother would have given me assurance and peace I needed from someone who was seemingly like me. I would have realized normality in my imperfections of inadequacy and self doubt sooner rather then later. All I interpreted was "YOU ARE CRAZY for feeling how you feel!"

Now I'm learning forgiveness and acceptance. Both have been equally as difficult to grasp as moments of mothering and housewifery. Forgiveness given to my mother for viewing me as nuts during my moment of need and for destroying my confidence to council with her has not come without its boundaries for the future. Acceptance in knowing that although my struggles may not be her struggles, I also accept that she continues to do her best at mothering the way she knows how. What more can I ask of her as her daughter? Is that not all I can hope my children will expect of my mothering efforts now and in their future when they say "I don't want to do it anymore" Heaven forbid if I have to retract wrong words.

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