So a few days ago I wrote a brief post about my mother. One letting her know that I was thinking of her, that the songs she loved when I was a kid still moved me and made me think of her. Wondered if she were alive if she would have forgiven me for the hard truths that I shared here on this blog two years ago. Been feeling her presence and seeing there was no way for me to tell her I did the one thing that has, in recent years, brought me much peace and clarity at times when I can't seem to sort through the gray layers of emotion, memory and resolution...I came here. I wrote.
Something else happened though. Others wrote back, both figuratively and quite literally. Got an overwhelming response, albeit privately, from that post and my silly heart has once again been split wide open, in a beautiful way, by the words of support, encouragement and absolute understanding. The women that have contacted me, told me that reading my somewhat confessional piece inspired them to think of their own relationships with their mothers, well they have not only made me feel far from being alone, they have bestowed upon me a gift that I have, historically been too stubborn or shy to take....they made me feel proud, of myself. No easy task I assure you. I am my worst and most brutal critic and while that shan't change anytime soon, on this Mother's Day I will indulge in your miraculous words and very open hearts. Walk just a bit higher on the balls of my feet, shoulders strong, back straight, extra twist of my hips, let the confidence ooze from my flesh....let the scent of whatever talent I might have flow from my pours. Don't think there is a greater gift than that of making one realize that they have to power to make people truly think and feel. You, your letters, your comments and visits to The Wine Country...they give me that.
I have only this one voice, this laptop, this one shot at living the life I've always wanted and the very real desire to bring us all closer by sharing myself and my stories in the hope that at least one person doesn't feel alone. Not much to offer you all I know, but it's what I have.
I wrote a series of posts about my mother and our somewhat tumultuous, sometimes painful, often fearful relationship two years ago. They were some of the hardest pieces I've ever written but also ones that I am very proud of. Not the way they are written, but the freedom I had to finally be able to say those things, and the ultimate resolution and clarity that came from looking at her for what she was. Mother's aren't Super Women, we are just women and so very human. She did the best she could and in the end, she raised two daughters that were far stronger, and happier than she ever had the chance to be. I was lucky to have her....wouldn't me this me without all the lessons that came with being her daughter.
Here they are all together and in order for those of you that weren't reading back then. Like I said, you make me feel incredible, like all the time and all I have to repay that are my words, my stories and my heart.