I went to a funeral this morning and I am glad I went. My experiences with funerals have mostly been in my childhood and they are not pleasant memories. The service today was really nice and even though I didn't particularly know the deceased, I was moved by the Eulogy and the pastor's reflection on our Hope. Disease and death are not going to win in the end--they are not a part of God's kingdom, Hallelujah! Alzheimer's had already taken this man from his family slowly over the last fifteen years and it was moving to hear how his family have really been "robbed" of getting to know their father, father-in-law and grandfather. Afterward, a man from the church who has regularly been checking in on how things are going with my mom, asked me if I could somewhat relate to this family's story today. Perhaps this question may have offended me at one point, but really, I did relate somewhat. In the New Year, I officially decided to see a counsellor and my first session left me feeling sad with the reality that yes, I am having to begin grieving over my mom. Even though she is still alive, the mom I have known may never return. (Certainly this was a sad thing to point out, but I am still thankful for the help I know these counselling sessions will be as I likely have a long haul ahead of me through this.) Seeing this family grieving today was actually good for me I feel.
Grief is an odd thing I guess. I guess I do somewhat feel in a perpetual state of sadness. It's not just the mental state of my mom, there are other losses, pain and disappointments happening around in my life too. And I get tired of being sad. But it is real. And I believe that God (and likely this counsellor) is and will help me to cope and manage this. Friends help too.
I want to give thanks for the times of reprieve from the sadness. I blogged on December 7 some very sad things, but the very next day I met someone nice and was surprised by some joy. My depressed morning slumps were broken, amazingly. And Christmas was rough, but returning home and joining in on another family's celebration was joyous. This week was my mom's birthday and the first time I'd seen her since Christmas. It wasn't a great visit, but again, I was surprised--a doctor from a Mental Health Centre coincidentally was there and I had the opportunity to speak with him. Something practical, which helps a lot when I struggle with feeling unable to DO anything.
I had to do something the other day that I've never quite had to do before and it was really hard. But it was right. It's requiring a lot of trusting on my part--trusting that I'm hearing my heart and hearing God correctly. And trusting God STILL that he has something/someone more/better for me. I guess again I'm disappointed and sad. But the same day I woke up feeling this way, I heard a radio sermon titled Grace When I'm Disappointed. How timely, once again. Looking at Elijah and how he got depressed, I am reminded how I need people and how I need to recognize goodness, blessings, faithfulness and provision. So yes, here I am: Sad, but thankful. Disappointed, but hopeful. There is grace.
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Saturday, 24 January 2009
Sunday, 13 May 2007
Being Mom's Little Girl
It hit me today that I miss my mom. It hit me and it broke me. Then after a five-hour car ride that should have only been a two-hour ride (here's that story), I saw her, shared my tears and thoughts with her and have come out a little better.
I know that I come across to practically everyone that I am this strong, independent woman. Today on Mother's Day, it hit me that I needed mothering. An overwhelming ache as I drove and drove and drove. As I drove and saw so many families, couples--happy people making the most of inching along the road on a Sunday afternoon. As I drove and felt lonely. Alone, shifting those gears up, then down. Changing the tunes. Turning off the tunes. Kind of aching and wanting my mom.
(And then being afraid that when I did finally make it to Barrie, she may not be there for me. And she may need me. And the roles may still be reversed.)
It's taken many years, I guess. As teenagers, girls often want to be as far away as possible from their moms. I was like that off and on. Clashes with my mom were not uncommon, especially as I demanded more independence and she swung into more of her manic stages. At sixteen, having had my license for only one month, my parents trusted me enough to let me drive their car with two friends twelve hours to Pennsylvania for our first big "Independence Trek"--camping for a week at a music festival! At eighteen, I moved across the Atlantic and didn't come back for nine months! At nineteen, I moved to Kitchener (in the dodgiest area of the city, mind you) and figured out the city life completely on my own.
It's almost like I've always seen independence as this amazing trait, something to go after. Yet, I remember the first time my closest friend challenged me with the fact that we are not born independent and the actual created design is that humankind be interdependent. I need to let myself need others. I have sought after this more and more in my relationships. (I know I have improved and I hope that those around me would agree. I hope that those that really know, see me as someone not always strong...) Except not so much in my relationship with my parents.
It hit me today that my mom hasn't called me for a long time. She used to call often and try to chat with me. And by try, I mean that I would just sit there and listen. Never offering much of my own self, my own life. Even when asked. Classic case of kid coming home from school to a mom sincerely asking, "How was your day?" and the kid says, "Fine," and goes up to their room.
And today it hit me and it broke me. I wish I could have the chance again to pour out my life to my mom on the phone. Why have I assumed for so long that my parents only need me? Why have I not let myself need them?
Anyway, like I said, this day has a happy ending. I saw my mom and I told her I missed her. I told her I realized I never talked very consistently to her on the phone and I wished she would call again so I could talk to her. I told her that I was sad. I told her that I was feeling lonely. I asked her for advice. I told her what she could pray for for me. I asked her to pray with me and she did. I showed her pictures from my life recently. I showed her my new dress and my new haircut. I lay beside her on her bed for two hours and she held me, stroked my hair (something I used to cringe away from) and loved me. She told me, "Don't cry, Bethy. It's ok."
"God, thank you for nudging me to let myself need my mom. Thank you that my mom is actually my mom right now. Thank you for bringing her along as you are. As I have prayed/sang in the past when that wasn't the case, thank you that you are my Heavenly Mother.
Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you like a mother while you rest
The tide can change so fast
But I will stay
The same through past the same in future the same today
I am constant
I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy
I am wise
I’m the only one who knows your heart’s desires
Your heart’s desires
Oh weary tired and worn
Let out your sighs
Drop that heavy load you hold cause mine is light
And I know you through and through
There’s no need to hide
I want to show you love that is deep and high and wide
Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother
While you rest."
***
I know that I come across to practically everyone that I am this strong, independent woman. Today on Mother's Day, it hit me that I needed mothering. An overwhelming ache as I drove and drove and drove. As I drove and saw so many families, couples--happy people making the most of inching along the road on a Sunday afternoon. As I drove and felt lonely. Alone, shifting those gears up, then down. Changing the tunes. Turning off the tunes. Kind of aching and wanting my mom.
(And then being afraid that when I did finally make it to Barrie, she may not be there for me. And she may need me. And the roles may still be reversed.)
It's taken many years, I guess. As teenagers, girls often want to be as far away as possible from their moms. I was like that off and on. Clashes with my mom were not uncommon, especially as I demanded more independence and she swung into more of her manic stages. At sixteen, having had my license for only one month, my parents trusted me enough to let me drive their car with two friends twelve hours to Pennsylvania for our first big "Independence Trek"--camping for a week at a music festival! At eighteen, I moved across the Atlantic and didn't come back for nine months! At nineteen, I moved to Kitchener (in the dodgiest area of the city, mind you) and figured out the city life completely on my own.
It's almost like I've always seen independence as this amazing trait, something to go after. Yet, I remember the first time my closest friend challenged me with the fact that we are not born independent and the actual created design is that humankind be interdependent. I need to let myself need others. I have sought after this more and more in my relationships. (I know I have improved and I hope that those around me would agree. I hope that those that really know, see me as someone not always strong...) Except not so much in my relationship with my parents.
It hit me today that my mom hasn't called me for a long time. She used to call often and try to chat with me. And by try, I mean that I would just sit there and listen. Never offering much of my own self, my own life. Even when asked. Classic case of kid coming home from school to a mom sincerely asking, "How was your day?" and the kid says, "Fine," and goes up to their room.
And today it hit me and it broke me. I wish I could have the chance again to pour out my life to my mom on the phone. Why have I assumed for so long that my parents only need me? Why have I not let myself need them?
Anyway, like I said, this day has a happy ending. I saw my mom and I told her I missed her. I told her I realized I never talked very consistently to her on the phone and I wished she would call again so I could talk to her. I told her that I was sad. I told her that I was feeling lonely. I asked her for advice. I told her what she could pray for for me. I asked her to pray with me and she did. I showed her pictures from my life recently. I showed her my new dress and my new haircut. I lay beside her on her bed for two hours and she held me, stroked my hair (something I used to cringe away from) and loved me. She told me, "Don't cry, Bethy. It's ok."
"God, thank you for nudging me to let myself need my mom. Thank you that my mom is actually my mom right now. Thank you for bringing her along as you are. As I have prayed/sang in the past when that wasn't the case, thank you that you are my Heavenly Mother.
Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you like a mother while you rest
The tide can change so fast
But I will stay
The same through past the same in future the same today
I am constant
I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy
I am wise
I’m the only one who knows your heart’s desires
Your heart’s desires
Oh weary tired and worn
Let out your sighs
Drop that heavy load you hold cause mine is light
And I know you through and through
There’s no need to hide
I want to show you love that is deep and high and wide
Oh gently lay your head
Upon my chest
And I will comfort you
Like a mother
While you rest."
***
Tuesday, 3 April 2007
A Reversal of Roles
The following are tearful (I mean, really full) thoughts I had today while driving, once again. This time on my way from picking my mom up at the hospital and taking her to her new temporary home.
"You're bossing me around! Telling me what to do! You're not being fair!"
"Well, if you want me to treat you like an adult, you're going to have to start acting like one."
~Reflections on a mother-daughter conversation. The daughter's statement is the latter.
"Why was I even born? I'm stupid. I was a mistake. Born out of wedlock, born out of wedlock. My parents only got married because of me. My father hated me."
~Words and hurts you never want to hear. Especially crying from out of your mother's mouth.
"Blessed be Your Name when the sun's shining down on me and the world's all as it should be...when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say, Blessed be Your Name."
"Oh Lord, Your love is new with every morning.
Your faithfulness gets me through the night.
You bid me come.
You know that I am weary.
Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light."
"You're bossing me around! Telling me what to do! You're not being fair!"
"Well, if you want me to treat you like an adult, you're going to have to start acting like one."
~Reflections on a mother-daughter conversation. The daughter's statement is the latter.
"Why was I even born? I'm stupid. I was a mistake. Born out of wedlock, born out of wedlock. My parents only got married because of me. My father hated me."
~Words and hurts you never want to hear. Especially crying from out of your mother's mouth.
"Blessed be Your Name when the sun's shining down on me and the world's all as it should be...when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say, Blessed be Your Name.""Oh Lord, Your love is new with every morning.
Your faithfulness gets me through the night.
You bid me come.
You know that I am weary.
Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light."
~boredatthebeach
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