Happy Mother’s Day, everyone! In honor of the day we asked our mom to write for us. You can call her Gail, or GG, or Geege. She’s famous in our homes and in our hearts. This weekend she is celebrating Mother’s Day with her amazing mom and two charismatic sisters on Cape Cod and, undoubtedly, laughing hard enough and loud enough to keep many of the neighbors awake. I hope you are having a good time, Mom! We love you. We are so happy for your contribution. And Happy Mother’s Day!
Last week I met a woman whose daughter I had taught 15 years ago. She didn’t know me. I reintroduced myself, and watched her eyes widen.
“But you look fabulous,” she blurted with ill-concealed surprise. “I didn’t recognize you.”
No, I haven’t had a face-lift, gone blond, or had a boob job. I’m just not so tired any more. When she knew me fifteen years ago, I was teaching full time, had three children, a husband, a large house, and an ever-shedding dog. And then it all changed, seemingly in a heartbeat. The children grew up and moved on into their own lives, the husband (and dog) died, the house was sold, I moved in with a new partner, and I retired. Seems impossible when put so baldly. But that’s what happened. And, I’m not tired any more. I can sleep when I want, and for how long I want. I have time to read and do the New York Times crossword puzzle and garden and travel and socialize – and take a nap. I have time for my nine gloriously perfect grandchildren. And I just plain have time for me. But I’m still a mom.
I went to hear the Dalai Lama speak yesterday, and one of the principle themes of his lecture was the importance of mother-love, how it is a proven scientific fact that people who receive loving care at the very beginning of their lives thrive and grow far better than those who do not. That all babies need to be held and stroked, sung to and soothed, and mothers are most usually the ones who do it. While I agree with him wholeheartedly, I also know that it was just not possible for me to supply all of that every day to each of my children. OK, with just one child, it was doable. With two it was a bit of a challenge, but still doable. But with the addition of number three, we were quite simply outnumbered. Some days it seemed like we were living in a state of siege. Some days I lost my mind. And I always seemed to be waiting for something to happen… a baby to sit up, a child to learn to read, a young adult to get a job. Waiting for a time when they didn’t need me, were independent, when I could sleep, and “have a life of my own”.
The Dalai Lama counseled us to enjoy the journey, and that is what I didn’t understand when I was in the middle of it all – that there is no point of arrival, that we all, children and parents alike, are constantly in a state of change. That you may have had a beast of a day, been crabby, ignored your precious third child, but tomorrow gives you another chance. That perfection isn’t reality. All we can do is forgive ourselves and move forward, and try to live in the moment, to see the moments for what they are.
I have lots of time now to do all of the things I thought I was missing out on. I do have a life of my own, and that life is good. But I miss the richness of daily family life; bathing three kids in the same tub and listening to them bicker, reading picture books snuggled on the couch together, watching three mostly naked bodies run through the sprinkler. I miss it – the upheaval, the hubbub, the fun.
At 62, it’s nice to hear I “look fabulous.” But nicer yet is to hear, “Your kids are fabulous.” Which they are, of course.
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That was a great read Gail – thank you for sharing with all of us Jen & Sarah!! I hope you all have a WONDERFUL Mother's Day!!
I am adding this entry to my featured bloggers today!!
Again – thanks for sharing!!!
What a lovely post. Though I’m working pretty hard to live in the moment and enjoy those that are enjoyable (let’s face it, buddhist monks are not stay-at-home moms and there is a limit to how much perspective a non-Siddhartha human can have where there’s shrieking and whining and smeared poop on the dining room table), it’s nice to remember that it changes. When they are new and they change every two days, you learn to expect that things will get different, if not better. And I often forget, three years into massive, mind-bending sleep deprivation, that I will, eventually, sleep. And think a coherent thought, and have a conversation. and if I’m lucky, some of those thoughts will stem from the wonder and amazement I experience in conversation with my adult child.
Thanks, Momalom’s mom, if I may call you that. ;-)
Thank you for pointing out that while the Dalai Lama has good things to say, he presumably has not had to spend every waking minute with a newly 5-year-old whose ability to hear his mother apparently disappeared when this milestone was reached. Theoretically speaking, I mean. I feel a teensy bit better about my total lack of patience this weekend.
Thank you for these words, Momalomsmom, and thank you, Jen and Sarah, for having the generosity to share a bit of your mom’s wisdom with us. I just clicked over from Momalomsmom’s post at 5 for 10 and found exactly the medicine I need this afternoon:
“The Dalai Lama counseled us to enjoy the journey, and that is what I didn’t understand when I was in the middle of it all – that there is no point of arrival, that we all, children and parents alike, are constantly in a state of change. That you may have had a beast of a day, been crabby, ignored your precious third child, but tomorrow gives you another chance. That perfection isn’t reality. All we can do is forgive ourselves and move forward, and try to live in the moment, to see the moments for what they are.”
So brilliantly put. Such a powerful reminder. And may I find the presence and strength to practice it.
Thank you again.
Twitter: Motherese