Tough as a Mother

Alan Watts said, "We cannot be more sensitive to pleasure without being more sensitive to pain". There is no truer sentiment. I would add that the capacity to feel both at the same time is beautiful and brutal, awful and awe inspiring and sometimes, too much to bear. This describes motherhood to me, as well as love and family.

I was always a sensitive person but that trait magnified when I became a Mother.  I remember holding my daughter in my arms, swaying to a lullaby and being overcome with emotion, feeling a sense of wonder and dread. Amazed that I was responsible for bringing this child into the world and so afraid I would screw up.

We've had a lot of ups and downs over the years. The last few fraught with divorce, a pandemic, a lot of change on top of the usual teenage angst and some issues that are not mine to share. It feels as though we are through the worst of it and have come to a good place. Honest conversations, snuggles and above all, trust. She knows I have her back and she has been showing me she has mine. I love that she calls and texts me because she wants to, not just to respond to me.

On a day when she felt sad and needed a good cry, I held her in my arms. She could feel me begin to weep too. "Don't cry" she said. I told her I feel her sadness, I understand and I am willing to share the load. I'm careful with my heart because I can give too much and take on more than I can handle. I think most parents understand the sacrifice play but also the importance of allowing children to discover their full emotional range including sadness and disappointment.

Today was a day I felt my full emotional range. Not just because I am a Mother but because I am also a sister. The world lost an exceptional human last night when my brother-in-law passed. My heart is broken for my sister and her children. Last June when Abby and I visited, no one suspected the cancer was already growing inside. 

During our visit Ray helped Abby and her cousins make stepping stones to take home, fed the pets while making jokes delivered so subtly you might miss them if you weren't paying attention. When Katie and Ray shared some thoughts about possibly moving, Ray said he didn't care where he went as long as Kate (my sister) was there. They were married 41 years, together 42. Yes, the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything.

This morning when I walked, I thought of Ray and Katie. The ordinary quality of life lived with extraordinary love. Though my heart was heavy, I still felt the pleasure of the cool breeze as it lifted the baby hairs at my nape sending a shiver down my spine. I looked through pictures and laughed and cried at the memories. I enjoyed the gift my daughter brought me and the time spent together.

I found the Rosary Katie sent me years ago after I had Abby. I am not a religious person, preferring instead to practice being a good human. Katie is the only sibling that returned to the church. Faith was one of the many things she and Ray shared. Today though, I fingered the beads and said a prayer. 

The grieving process has just begun. I know the pleasure of love and the pain of loss. The overwhelming joy and the never ending ache and I am willing to share all of it. We will get through this together because we are tough as a mother.