When I was only a daughter, my mother seemed assured in her judgment. She never faltered and I felt safe. As a mother I often question my own judgment. I hesitate. Every decision has three alternatives or more. I wonder…did my mother, as a young woman, question her abilities as I do mine; and yet made me secure by hiding her insecurity? I know I must.
When I was a little girl, Mother bandaged my wounds, cared for me when I was ill, comforted me. I never felt really sick. As a mother, my child’s wounds seem deep; his cold appear as pneumonia, the bumps on his head must be concussions. I wonder…did my mother imagine greater ills as I do and yet made me unafraid by hiding her fears? I know I must.
When I was a child, Mother gave me roller skates and a blue bicycle and tall trees to climb. I felt confident in her confidence in me. As a mother, I give my child these same gifts and worry about his safety every minute. I wonder…did my mother give me confidence in myself by keeping her worries hidden behind a confident smile? I know I must.
When I was a girl, I had to learn to make decisions. I remember it hurt. I had to learn to accept the pride in choosing right and to accept the responsibility of choosing wrong. As a mother I want to shield my child from having to make decisions. Of course, I want him to know the pride in a right choice, but I want to protect from the results of mistakes. I wonder…did my mother know anguish in standing aside so that the choice might be mine? Did she know pain in letting me become a person? I know I must.
When I was a juvenile, I said to Mother, “Everyone’s doing it!” Mother listened calmly and explained rationally why I wasn’t everyone else. As a mother, when my child pouts with this same well worn phrase, I don’t listen calmly nor do I act rationally. Inside I scream, “You’re different; you are like no other person!” I wonder…did my mother know these frustrations yet give me strength to become myself in her ability to be strong? I know I must.
When I was a girl in my teens, I wanted my driver’s license - my badge of maturity. Mother gave me the opportunity to learn, the chance for experience, the security of trust. I did not break that trust. I wonder…did my mother know sleepless hours and great anxiety so that I could honor that trust? I know I must.
As a child-woman, I preferred the company of friends to family. Mother seemed happy for my happiness. As a mother, I want to be selfish. I want my child at home. I don’t want him grown yet. I wonder…did my mother encounter this same selfishness and yet love me enough to let go - love from a distance so that I might love? I know I must.
Safety, security, confidence, strength, trust, love - these my mother gave to me. I wonder…at what expense to her? I know I want to give them freely to my child -regardless of cost.
I wonder…are mothers born or are they grown - during motherhood?
1971
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