Listen

If only you would have listened when I tried to explain. If only you had for one single moment had the humility to process a viewpoint other than your own.... I tried my best to get through to you, in the beginning, when I had thought you were still salvageable, you scoffed at me and called me stupid and n.  We went to the same college, had the same amount of education, and yet you saw fit to belittle me and make me feel foolish. I was your Jester...your amusement when you felt a need for buoyancy. I wasn't trying to dictate to you how you should live but I had to protect my children. Why in the world could you not see the damage you were doing through your cruel actions, your callous, thoughtless words and your inability to act on the promises you made to change; all as empty and vacant as your heart.

If only you could see that all your fanatical religious beliefs are a crutch, something for you to lean on to support you when you can't accept the truth. When you have nowhere else to go you turn to your "faith" which is nothing more than your distortion of words, twisted and molded to put those around you into chains, into categories of "Sinners" and "Saints."  You will never understand that we are all a little of both and if one be damned then so are we all...

If you only had been able to see that children are not possessions - not chattel - you would still have the gift of being able to laugh with your daughter because she is in many ways wiser than you, and her words are a mixture of childish idealism and the cold harsh reality of adulthood come too soon...and you would laugh because you cant believe how grown up she is and yet how much further she has to go and how much is out there for her to experience...and you would feel a sense of relief that she is still young and a sense of dread that she is.  Or you would be able to watch a sunset with your son in absolute silence, no words needed, because you both felt the peace of knowing that just that one day you had done the very best you could to make the world a better place and tomorrow would come and you'd have another chance to do it all again to be significant.  To matter. You'd be able to appreciate your youngest child's gift of inner peace and extreme intelligence and her magnetism that seems to lighten the hearts of everyone she touches. You wouldn't try to bind her to you through force and manipulation because she is light-hearted and free and she needs to be allowed to soar and experiment with finding herself, through music, through friendship, through making mistakes.

If only you would not stick so doggedly to what you think is right, you might be able to learn something that could possibly change your life forever - take you to a better place where fear of failure, hell and damnation evaporate into thin air and you are free...totally free to live your life in joy and with love.I failed miserably at enlightening you on these things. But I have these gifts and so many more for which I am eternally grateful. My life is full...

Shattering the Glass Bubble

When I was growing up, I used to take a lot of problems upon myself rather than burdening my mother or father with them. I kept a lot inside, and consequently, had some issues around this as I got older. As a mother myself now, I have no choice but to take on the problems of my children as they become teenagers and older and try to make their way in the world. If they hurt, I hurt more. If they have a problem, I will be the one to have the sleepless nights, and I will try to help them fix it, with gentle guidance and ultimately, if that doesn't work, putting my foot down and solving it for them in the best way I can see fit. It isn't a matter of becoming too enmeshed in the problems of other people; these are my children, my life, my blood and an extension of myself; so much so that the pain I feel when I see them struggle is visceral, all-consuming. I cannot bear to see them hurt, and while I recognize that life can be painful, to see anyone, particularly my kds, suffer pain at the hands of another is just unbearable for me to watch.

My son is going through some terrible times right now. He came home from college in December. He started working an internship in Manhattan, commuting from Rockland County, and all was well. However, about a week and a half ago, he slid on the ice, and crashed into a telephone pole, totalling his car and receiving a concussion. If it wasn't bad enough to be home with no transportation and a huge bump on his head, we found out that his father, who is my ex-husband, had removed him from his auto insurance without informing anyone.

I was furious. If my son had hit another driver, or injured someone other than himself, he would have had no coverage, and would be in a whole lot of trouble. I simply don't understand why someone would do such a thing,  and worry more about saving a few bucks than about the safety and well being of their own child that they profess to "love"; but then again this has been the pattern all along,  And I realized long ago, that I cannot not control his father's behavior towards him, and I can only react appropriately.

This situation brought up other issues with my son's father, both from the past and present, and finally led to him confronting his father about his behavior and the multitude of inappropriate and disrespectful things he has done. It took 6 years, but my son finally found the courage to stick up for himself in the presence of a personality that is controlling and at the same time weak emotionally.

My son, over the past 6 years, has done nothing but give his father the benefit of the doubt. He has chosen to believe, as is his nature, that people will do the right thing. I, being the more jaded individual that I am, have no such illusions. Yet, he is so young, and so idealistic, which in a way is a very good quality to have; to always believe the best about humanity and other people. to think that things should be a certain way, and that people should act in a way that is kind and compassionate towards others. I have felt in the past that for me to "burst that bubble" with my somewhat wary outlook and comparative suspicion of others would be cruel. But life takes funny turns sometimes; and now he has had that bubble not only burst but shattered as if it were made of glass and he now has the scars and bruises to show for it.

I have grown to understand the power of maternal love and just how deep those bonds are. It is as though when your child is born, they become separate from you and gradually over time, develop independence and move a little bit further away, and a little bit further from you. You start to think that they are growing up, and that you will not have to, or even be able to, hold their hand forever. And it's sad. But you try your best to give them the tools they need to survive independent of you.

But what happens when they get stuck? - and they will get stuck. What happens when they are incapable or unable to solve the problems laid at their feet? You are sucked back into that style of fierce caregiving that is comparable to a mother lion protecting her cub, and your teenager becomes an infant again in your eyes. Because  the fact remains that they always will be; there is an invisible chord that connects us to not only the physical bodies, but our emotional states, as well.

This is why, once you bring a child into this world, you are forever committed to protecting them and providing for them, even, and often, at your expense.