In a previous blog I shared that my mom bought me a book on houseplants when my science fair project on rocks won the ribbon of Excellence. I recall being quite excited about the book at the time because it was a new interest of mine. Also it was a nice fat book full of information and color photos. I was 11 or 12 at the time.
By the time I was 13, my mom and I were more at odds than at peace. There are ugly details on both sides. I was a emotional and hormonal. To make matters worse, my periods were highly irregular, so we often failed to recognize the sometimes physiological reasons behind my tears and frustrations. For the following decade I held a lot of things against my mom. In my early twenties I gained an older friend and mentor, Debbie. She had four children ages roughly 3 to 11 at the time. She taught me a great deal about relationships in general, and specifically in regard to my mom. Both of them were single, working moms. She talked with me about how challenging it is to be a parent. She told me she believed my mom had done the best she could for me and I should give her grace. She told me to let go of hurts and focus on all my mom did right - all there was to be thankful for in my growing up years. Turns out there was quite a lot. Funny, the older I've become the more there were.
Also, turns out my memory is not always balanced. Several examples come to mind.
When I was four my mom was remarried to Earl for two years. As a teenager I had distinct childhood memories of several ugly arguments between the two of them. During one of their arguments, I had been sent outside to play in our apartment's small yard; I invited several other kids to come listen at the door. I'm not sure if I was motivated by fear, or the desire not to be alone, or if I was simply drawn to the drama and wanted to share the experience. These fights stuck out in my mind for a long time.
Another memory I have comes from my third grade year. We had moved to a new town. I had made some new friends but wasn't entirely comfortable yet in the new social pool. An opportunity to secure and acquire more friends arose in the form of class party sign-up sheet. I choose my favorite, and sure winner, ice cream. I told my classmates I would bring their favorites. I will now interject that it's at this point my memory needed refreshing. It wasn't something I held against my mom, but it was something from my childhood that stuck in my mind as her being unreasonable and not at all understanding. A vague sense of being somehow wronged. Until one day my mom and I were laughing over other things from my childhood. It came out that what I had wanted, and expected my mom to do, was to purchase one half gallon of ice cream for every student in my class! As soon as she told me, I remembered the conversation: My mom trying very hard to convince me that the two half gallons of neapolitan ice cream she was purchasing was going to be more than enough for everyone - and that she couldn't possibly buy every flavor. And that it really would be okay with kids in my class. Which, of course, it was. Well, live and learn...
Sometimes the everyday, normal life things don't get remembered because, as one scientist put it, our memories aren't designed to be perfect - they are designed to protect and guide us. (Think fight or flight response, like how to avoid danger/pain, or where to find food.) Yet now I do recall good times: Drive-in movie nights, which we prepared for by going to the local fruit stand first to get Bing cherries. And Earl pushing me on the swings there before the movies began. The trips we all took to Sea World almost every year. Going out to eat at a restaurant in Tallmadge Square. Going to the gift shop there and picking out a new item for my glass menagerie. I still have them. One favorite Earl specifically got me is a small ceramic girl looking into a mirror, with the many ruffles of her skirt showing. But it was my mom who did her best to keep me as the priority in her world, no matter what else was happening. Most of my menagerie collection, including several music box pieces, came from her. She took me on some great vacations where we had such good times. She took out a loan to buy me a piano when I was struggling as a teen. Basically, despite her own challenges, flaws, and struggles she did a whole lot right for me to remember and enjoy.
I came to realize this a great deal more one day when, in my 30's, I rediscovered the book on houseplants on my basement bookshelf collection. I opened the front page to find a hand-written entry to me, full of kind and encouraging words from my mom. It was everything I had wished she would say to me during those teen years when I felt misunderstood and so criticized. Now I wonder: Was what I heard during those years truly all of what she was saying? Was my hearing as selective as my memory?
If you have a child, regardless of the age, let me encourage you to write to them; even if you save it for later. Leave words of encouragement and love; let them know you believe in them, regardless of whether or not you agree with them. If you need to seek forgiveness, do it, even if you are afraid it will be too little, too late. Try. And try again if need be: do/say/give love. If you have struggled with your own parents, let me encourage you to consider if they did their best under their own circumstances. Put yourself in their shoes. You may find that a better understanding of them softens some of the pain. Because if you had relatively good parents, chances are that whatever hurts they caused you were not intended, but were caused by their own shortcomings, misunderstandings, or their own painful past. Or perhaps there are simply different generational or personal perspectives that have caused degrees of separation. That's not all bad; it's a part of leaving childhood behind. We are created to grow out of our parents' authority and establish our own identities. Nevertheless, perhaps consider if some grace and forgiveness could do a world of good for your own heart - be it on the giving or receiving end.
And perhaps you also have some good memories waiting to be recalled - I hope so. If not, I hope you will make a new start - go make good memories with/for someone you love. Let us hold onto and nurture all that is good in this world. We need the good in ourselves and each other to make the world a more beautiful and kinder place.
(Note: There are several people I know right now who may think this was written specifically for and about them/their situation. As both a writer and someone who cares about the people I know, its difficult to separate one from the other. I can say I didn't write this for/about one specific person, beyond myself. But I can also admit I thought of people I care about, especially as I was doing my final edits. So if it seems like I wrote this for you, well, with my best intentions, in some ways I did.)
Dueteronomy 11:18 "Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds..."
Psalm 27:!0 (NLT) Even if my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.
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