Today, 11.12.13, would have been my Mother's 69th birthday were she still alive. While I think of her daily, I find that I focus on living in her spirit verses in her memory nowadays. Everything about her use to be holy and sacred in my mind. I was fiercely protective of what people thought or said about her. I was selfish. I wanted to let everyone know about how wonderful she was, but I would get irked if someone who I didn't think knew her that well would say something about her. Their memories, their thoughts could never be as true or as important as mine or my brothers.
Something that I realized with the loss of my friend Diane is that every person's memories are valid. As a friend of Diane's daughter, my heart breaks for her loss of a most wonderful mother and it weeps for the pain she will have to endure to recover from such a sudden and wounding shock. As a daughter figure of Diane's best friend, I grieve for the loss of a friend, companion, and confidant for her. As a friend of Diane herself, I miss my friend. All of these relationships feel the hurt and anguish at the loss of one woman. This doesn't mean that any of the hurt is more important than another person's or that it isn't as real. Just different.
Through this most recent tragedy, I realized that my thinking about my mother has changed since I was 14, 18, 21, 25. I use to think of my mother as only as my mother. I, for so long, have only seen her through the lens of "daughter" as that is the only relationship we had the time to form.
As a nearly 30 year old, I can say with confidence that I know my father as the man who gave me life as well as reared me, but also, I know him as a friend, a (most of the time) welcome and able counselor, and the sort of man that people like and want to be around. I never had this sort of realization with my mother. She was on the verge of becoming my friend as well as nurturing mother, but that opportunity was not to be.
I understand now my previous selfishness of her memory and I am thrilled that I over the last few years, I have been able to come to the realization that I am not as selfish as I once was.
So on this day, as there is nothing physical I do for her on her birthday, I give her my thanks.
Thanks for setting me up for success with what little time she had with me. For instilling a love and admiration of art. All the arts. I thank her for showing me her passion so that I can remember and emulate her in pursing my own dreams and desires, no matter the size. I thank her for never kicking me out of the kitchen when she was cooking. I thank her for teaching me how to read and understand a recipe, but also for teaching me that it is ok to go off book. I thank her for answering my questions openly. I thank her, most dearly, that she never spoke to me in a way that belittled or made me feel like I was less than her simply because I was young. I thank her for believing, for her wit, for her joy. I thank her for her legacy, for all the peoples lives that she touched in some way or another so that they can bring their memories and stories to me. I thank her for her style, her grace, and her charisma in all things.
Thank you Maman. I miss you, but I keep you present in the things I do daily.
With my continued love,
Your Daughter
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