So you might be wondering why I decided to start blogging? Well, I’m kind of wondering that to… I guess when it comes down to it, I have 3 reasons, two of them are girls, and one is a boy, all of them are amazing! They, along with my own relationship with my mom are the inspiration for why I write.
When I think about the kind of relationship I want to have with my kids when they are grown, what I hope things will “be like”, one of the things that I often hope for is to be able to sit down to a nice meal with them, at a restaurant or in one of our homes, and be able to talk. I mean really talk, like the kind of conversation that you have that is still going long after the plates have been cleared and the waiter is just dropping in occasionally for refills of your cup. To talk about anything, religion, politics, their loves and losses, and have the safety and understanding that it is OK to disagree. To have that kind of relationship with them would be a gift and it is the type of relationship that I look forward to and miss all at the same time.
I was blessed with some amazing parents! The whole story will unfold over time, but in order to know where I’m coming from you need to know that my beautiful mom died of cancer in January 2005. She was a truly great woman. I can’t even adequately express how much I adored her! I was so blessed to have such a relationship as I described with my own mom, and it is only since her passing that I have come to see just how rare that is. I’m not saying that when she was alive I didn’t know we had a something unique, I really did, and I’m not saying that we didn’t have our disagreements, because we sure had those too, but after my loss many people have told me how their own experiences are so different.
It was in a Grief Recovery group that I began really examining this sort of parent/child relationship. When someone you love dies there’s a lot of stuff to make sense of, and it was really important to me to keep my mom’s memory real. I didn’t want my memory of her to turn into some super hero-angel-princess-perfect who never really existed. (Although sometimes that does creep in just a little.) Someone in our group began to talk about regrets and our group facilitator invited us all to talk about the subject. I was remembering back to some of the more unpleasant moments between my mom and I and the feeling of regret came crashing in. That’s when the light came on. The best way I know how to describe it is like this… a diamond.
Like the diamond I wear in my wedding ring, our relationship was beautiful. It was full of color, it was vibrant, and it was multi-faceted, and like even the most precious diamond it had some flaws. Did those flaws mean I didn’t love the rest of it? Of course not! Sometimes the easiest way for a jeweler to know if a diamond is real or a fake is by looking for the characteristics of the real thing, and that includes the flaws. I began to look at those regrets as part of the beautiful markings of what made our relationship real. I don’t want this to sound like we were always at each other, because we weren’t, but in thinking about the journey ahead of me with my own children, I think it was an important thing to think about. It won’t always be perfect, but it will be real!
Along with keeping it real, I’ve been feeling a need to keep a journal for my kids. I’m sure you’ve heard the idea before, and most likely from an tragic story about a parent who is leaving a journal for their children after their eminent death. What a courageous and beautiful thing to do. This is NOT why I am doing it, but quite the opposite. I want to share myself with them while I am here and this is just one more way to do it!
Sometimes when they are at school or when they are asleep and I’m still up, these thoughts come to me that I wish I could tell them. Sometimes I write them down, sometimes I don’t , but in my mind they keep coming up, and always it is because I love them, and I want them to know that I love them! Some of the most beautiful things my mom ever said to me were words that she had written, of course she followed them up with her actions, but I treasure her written words, which were usually signed “With Love, Mom”. I want them to know, like I knew, that they will never be adored by anyone like they are adored by their mom. Yes, others will love them as well, but it will be different than my love for them.
So, thanks for joining me, and let the blogging begin!