Mother's Day Monday...Again
Can You Forgive the Past?
Mother’s Day was really important to my mom, even more so than her birthday.
I always felt a bit of pressure to do something special for her since it seemed she ran on a low, growling disappointment much of her life.
She was known for a great sense of humor, though, and people who knew her still remember her laugh all these years after her death.
You can find another story about my mother’s laughter 😄linked 🔗 HERE.
I remember hearing somewhere that most comedians have some dark spirits from their past, and comedy is their way of taming those ghosts.
I’ve mentioned before that my mom used whiskey & diet 7-up to tame hers.
And that drink she thought of as her best friend helped her find humor and show off an exuberant & joyful façade, sort of like a comedian.
And she certainly loved storytelling & performing too.
Later in life, her laughter flowed even more freely and genuinely. Her illness must have stripped away all the angst from the loneliness she fought for so many years, some of it coming from childhood and some from an unfulfilling marriage.
But by the time she neared the end of her life, she was pretty settled with how she made amends with my dad before his death and pursued positive relationships with her son and daughters as well as her grandchildren.
She gathered some strength, draped herself in humility, and apologized for the ways she fell short in motherhood.
We all let it go.
Mother’s Day pressure eased up and we were all happy with a nice cookout, including a good dessert. Mom’s favorite was what she called ambrosia. A bunch of fruit mixed with Cool Whip and marshmallow cream. I don’t have a taste for it today, though it’s a memory that causes a chuckle among my sister, myself and our kids. She whipped that up like it was all of our favorite treat.
I never want my daughters to worry about pleasing me on this holiday, especially since they are in the throes of motherhood right now and need to take a day of rest more than anything.
Maybe I just don’t want them to feel what I felt, so I’m not big on pressuring anyone to have a fancy Mother’s Day, even though today I did have a lovely lunch with some of my family in my favorite restaurant.
That was last year. ⬆️
This year, we brunched at my house & then kicked a soccer ball around with a few Littles. 😊
And my daughter, son-in-law & I had a moment of uncontrollable laughter!
It was at my expense but so worth it.
I’m just as happy with sunshine, a lawn chair and a book on this Sunday afternoon.
Thankfully, the memories of past Mother’s Days that play across my mind most are the ones closer to the end of mom’s life, and I don’t much think about those disappointed times from childhood when none of us knew how to perform to mom’s satisfaction.
Can you forgive your past?
If you’re thinking about how . . .
You can find a way forward in My Father’s Daughter, available on 🔗 Amazon 📖
Obviously, my parents were not perfect; I’m sure not many could say their parents were. But I have always understood that they did the best they could.
I’m hearing more and more these days about adult children excommunicating their parents, and profound sadness is the only byproduct. While, of course, abuse warrants such a consequence, I know people experiencing these severed relationships without any known reason they can pinpoint.
As if they don’t deserve forgiveness for being flawed people.
And that’s a lonely place to land.
Aren’t we all flawed?
And usually, if we dig a little, we can find the reasons for those flaws in the background somewhere & gain a little understanding.
I chose to forgive my past, my parents, because what else could I do?
Think of the alternative.
I’m not going to carry around the burdens of a hundred years on my shoulders. It’s so much better to feel lighter. I like experiencing the freedom.
You want to know the ironic twist?
My mom lasted two weeks in the Hospice wing of the hospital before she slipped into a coma and passed.
[This happened in May, the anniversary of her death coming in a couple of days.]
Hospice nurses are compassionate and nurturing people, and so on the morning of Mother’s Day before I made my way to the hospital for a visit, the nurse dialed my number because my mom didn’t want to wait for me.
She had something urgent to say.
The nurse handed mom the phone, and my mom said,
Happy Mother’s Day, Sweetie.
Those were her last words to me.
Do you want to experience the freedom that comes from forgiving your past?
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What readers say about My Father’s Daughter:
“It's an exciting yet tender story” (Tientown).
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Hope you had the best Mother’s Day, Shell💐”Happy Mother’s Day, sweetie”🥲 Thanks for sharing —forgiveness is so important. And ambrosia is such a classic!!