Mom

Out of nowhere, while talking to a friend, a realization regarding my mom popped into my head. What came to me was an understanding of one of my mom's greatest gifts to me, and I am assuming she does the same for my brothers, the gift of accepting and approving of my life choices with the intent that she wants me to be happy in what I choose.

I can't say with certainty that she ever has used the words, "I just want you to be happy," although I could very well envision her saying just that. More, her actions and attitude demonstrate to me her commitment to allowing me to chart my own course, even if the way leads me further from her.

My mother's greatest desire, her idealized situation, if my understanding is correct, is to have all of her sons and our significant others, living in close proximity to her and one another. The only force stronger in her psyche is her wish for our happiness. So she swallows down that need of us all living together, one big happy family and encourages us to take the steps leading to our desires. Perhaps she wishes, and this is conjecture, we desire that same close proximity and closeness to her.

Now, the evidence; and this is what streamed into my head while talking to my friend: When I told her in high school that I had been saved, at my dad's baptist church, despite my mother "bringing us up" catholic and was planning, not asking, to move in with my Dad and Step Mom, in a different city, 45 minutes away, during my Senior year and commute to Monroe for school every day, she said okay. I write that sadly, in reflection, thinking how selfish I was, I mean on so many levels. Funny, I think about how a senior year for a high school student is important, not even knowing if that would have been to her, but wondering if I took that away from her. And still, she said okay.

Wow, I didn't realize this post would end up here.

Then, one awful year later, after living with my dad, a year which foretold how inconsistent I would be in communication with my mom during future college years, I asked to move back in with my mom, not even caring how the last year affected her, only wanting to escape what had become an untenable, scary situation. Who knows where I would be now if I would have continued living with my dad - certainly not anywhere nearly as good as here. Probably you can guess what my mom said when I showed up on her doorstep, me arriving from a tearful, frightening and surprisingly relieving drive back to her house and her of course, crying, probably scared and excited, she hugged me, told me she loved me and she welcomed home.

All the years and all the times when I made her feel unimportant, treated her as if I wanted to drop her from my life, not calling, not visiting, not sharing my life, and not really knowing why, probably because I wasn't really thinking about her. You know the answer by now: she still loves me. Just wants me to be happy. Sure, move across the country, sure don't come home and visit, no problem, do what you need to do, your happiness is more important than mine.

And that, I hate to say, may be what is hard. To wish happiness for my mom, knowing I can't give it to her, knowing my choices aren't going to bring me back home this time. I understand how big the gap is between what I believe is her number two want, for us to live close, and her number one want, desiring our happiness. And I wish I could bridge that gap, because I want to make her happy, I want to provide her with what she wants for us, happiness.

But I can't. She taught me that, she taught me that I am responsible for my happiness, I am responsible for taking care of my own needs; and so is she.

It's all I want for her, to be happy, its all I want for anyone. Thank you mom, for teaching me that.

So please, for me, for my mom, for all the starving kids in Africa, seriously, go make yourself happy and help those around you do the same.