Who was Your Mom?

I am awake, I am alive, and this morning I am wondering … who was your Mom?

I know who my Mom was. Although the world judged her as uneducated and therefore of little value, I knew her to be hard-working, compassionate, principled, driven, and haunted. My Mother wasn’t perfect. She was human. But as she taught me, I choose to “keep the best and forget the rest” and with her, that’s easy because I think she was awesome, in spite of her shortcomings.

But what of those who weren’t so fortunate, those whose Mothers did not nurture and encourage them? What do they do?

As always, the first answer is to heal. To come to the place where you realize your mother was a flawed human, perhaps cruel, perhaps unable to love. In this place, you begin to consider what autrocities must have happended to her to make her that way. Here you forgive her for not being able to love you as you needed her too.

(And if you can’t yet do that, that’s simply just a sign that you have more healing to do, more contemplation, more tears to shed.)

Once the healing is done, it is time to deal with that gawd-awful suitcase you were handed. From the place of a strong and healed adult, you must now discard all the things she told you or taught you about who you are. Write them each on a paper if need be and rip the papers to shreds .. or burn them. Whatever works.

Then slowly begin to fill your suitcase with teachings and comments that support and encourage you. Fill your life with the same type of people.

In time, you will see the chains are broken. In time, you will become the generation of your bloodline that healed from the past. For if you don’t, there is a good chance your children will have to do what you could not – heal, discard, and rebuild.

Today I pray for all who deserved and needed so much more love as children.

I love you!