Individual Entry: Mom
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May 14, 2006

Introspection : Mom

My mother died 14 years ago, and there are still days I miss her. She died of cancer, so we all knew what was coming and were able to prepare for it. A week before she died, I was able to fly out and spend time with her and Dad, as well as my brother and nephew who had also flown out. When I went to visit her in the hospital the last time before getting on the plane to come home, we knew it would be the last time I saw her in this life, so she and I were able to say everything we needed and wanted to say. There were a lot of tears; but I know I was able to say a proper goodbye. I can't imagine what its like for people who loose a loved one suddenly without that kind of opportunity for closure.

Now here's where tradition would have me talk about what a great Mom she was (which she was); but long before she died I reached the point of accepting that Mom was a normal, flawed human being. She had her issues, her baggage; as I have mine. There's something liberating about being able to look at your parents as people like yourself. There's a closeness you can develop which is impossible as long as they remain the idealized icons of a child.

Mom and I reached that point early. Both of us came to know Jesus around the same time, and so shared a common experience of learning what Christianity was all about. Our relationship as brother and sister in Christ quickly overwhelmed the son/mother relationship, freeing us to talk more honestly with each other about what we were experiencing in life. At the end of the day, Mom was one of my best friends, and it is in that role I miss her most.

She was in many respects a stifled artist. In a different day and age I think she would have become a classic bohemian; but she lived in a culture where a woman got married, had kids, raised a family, and defined themselves by those roles. To be clear, this was not something Dad did to her – I don't think it occurred to either of them that things could be any other way. Eventually, as my brother and I grew up, Mom did try and discover herself (discovering her faith and sharing it with me was a part of this); but I think the woman she might have been was buried too long to be recovered. The result was that in later years, Mom was often quite flighty – jumping from one thing to another, following fads, always (I think) trying to find herself in something new.

In all, my biggest regret is that I don't own any of her paintings. I do have some craft projects that she and Dad did together – Dad doing the woodworking and Mom painting the results; but she also did several paintings on her own which became lost in one of my parents many moves. I was always able to sense the emotions she put into the pictures – she and I had a common language in that regard, so her imagery spoke to me. I still wish I had one to keep, to cherish.

Anyway, happy mothers day, Mom.

Posted by Steven at May 14, 2006 07:39 AM

Comments

Posted by: Anne at May 14, 2006 03:19 PM