On edge
picture by darkmatter
This post was partly inspired by an entry on Ali Clifford’s photographic blog Twenty-Ten when she featured a candid portrait of her mother. I was moved by the image and by the title: she brought me here. If only my feelings for my mother were so pure and so simple.
My mother has come to stay. She arrived yesterday and will be with us for three weeks while the hubby is away on a business trip. I love her dearly, but there is … history … and much that goes unspoken between us. I have tried to discuss said history with my mother. Many times. But she cannot bear the confrontation. Either she shuts down, or she blows up. And neither situation is easy to endure. Especially for three weeks under one roof.
So here we are on day one and already I need an outlet for my frustration. How can one person push so many of my buttons at once? I’ve done a lot of work, a lot of healing, over the past six or seven years and I truly thought I was at peace with the past. I truly thought I had let go of Mum and all her petty stuff. I had evolved enough to have her come and stay for longer than we’ve spent together since I was a teenager coming home for uni holidays. I truly thought I was now above it all. And as far as she is aware, I am.
Oh, but what would I give for her to be different to who she is! What if she was relaxed and open and able to talk about anything with me? What if she could rationalise her experiences and trust her memories and express her love freely? What if she could be free from pain and relieved of the weight of her anxiety and depression? What would she be like then?
But it is futile to wish her different. She is who she is. Our relationship is what it is. The only aspect of this situation I control is my own. So I will try, very hard, to have a pleasant three weeks with my mother, to give her happy memories with her grandchildren, to avoid any conflict or unpleasantness that may arise, to keep building the precarious bridge between her world and mine.
But it won’t take much to push me over the edge.
February 10th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, nostalgia, grandparents, grief, love, self-care | |
3 Responses to ' On edge '
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on February 13th, 2010 at 3:41 am
Ahhh Jodes I can relate to much of this post.
I do believe it’s futile to put energy into wishing her different, however I do also believe we can somewhat alter those around us by how we choose to respond to them.
I hope that in the last few days you’ve found a rhythm that allows for her inclusion into your family unit whilst not letting her overwhelm your own personal space (both mentally and physically).
Ahh mothers, we can’t be without them really.
x B
on February 13th, 2010 at 11:19 pm
Hope things are going alright for you Jodie.
on February 14th, 2010 at 8:02 am
Actually, things are getting better. Perhaps I was still adjusting to her presence on the first day when I wrote this entry but now I am indeed managing to find an inclusive rhythm without getting overwhelmed.
So far, so good.