March 2008
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The Mother Club
3/10/08
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3/2/08
Monday, March 10, 2008
10:56:00 PM EDT
Written by frankandmary Blog about this entry
10:56:00 PM EDT
The Mother Club
Am I writing too much? Don't answer. I had a phase one phone interview for a job today & it started out poorly. He wanted to know what I want? Well, I gave an appropriate work related answer, I'd thought, & he seemed exasperated. Asking if all I cared about was work (I'm confused now)? What did I want if I could have anything? Now I am nervous & thinking: uhm uhm & blurt out (never blurt): My mother back(OMG, I lost the job already; he thinks I'm nuts). We were silent & then I apologized.
He: No. No. How old were you?
Me(feeling sooo stupid & unprofessional): 20, but..
He: I was young, too. It makes you strong, you grow.
And then we were off like 2 people who'd met at a self help group.( Warning: Mother content that many people may not feel like visiting)
How she never really fades to the background for long while you try to puzzle out the possible without . A sense of serene order becomes an untruth. All the subjective truths & how they'd surely have changed over time, with error. Now the only err, she left you. Her memory & beliefs become your stand in God. Did you just do something wrong? Hanging head, you should honor her memory.
How both our moms were sick over years, & we were little & worry climbs into bed with you. Even great dads can't mother so you makeshift mother yourself & rock yourself too (his ex wife told him he was autistic because he carried this into adulthood).
You don't realize it at the time, but childhood gives way to forcible early adulthood by way of circumstance, doctor's offices (why he became one{Dr}, why I started volunteering at the Ronald McDonald house a year after my mom passed), hospitals, crying, laundry done wrong by little hands & parental outbursts of misery. Sometimes you help, get very good at helping & other times you think: I can't help you, I need you to help me, & then you can't sleep from the shame of thinking that.
How parts of you are overdeveloped & some never develop. Then afterward people who seem divorced of empathy (but are really just trying to help, you realize years later) say: You have to move on. No sense telling them that you have been moving on, way on beyond your years for years, which is not the same as the Mother loss you will always endure; it does not respond to notions of closure. 80 year olds call for their Mother. So you envy the mothered, but hide it, or motherly needs, not to cause discomfort for others. Who are you going to call? An aunt or a second cousin?; they have meals to cook & work to do & their own children to tend to. You conceal rather than reveal & then people say: She/he is so secretive. Do you really want to know? I'm not emotionally mature enough to word it properly yet, though I want to. Once you have developed that way, you are older & should be over it, so you remain silent once again.
Routine returns & distracting emotional reactions diminish, & so much of the good reveals itself, if you let it. All the pain & low points make you forever vividly remember the passion & high points. My Mother never said: Don't forget me. She said: Never forget how much I love you. I did forget at times, but it was always there, to be picked up again. What a joy. She taught me many lessons in what really matters, because I knew the time was limited. A cup of tea & a story took on the beauty of poetry. I can look back on a series of "little mother/daughter scenes" that capture the essence of my Mother's life. I never brush a little girl's hair without revisiting having done that so many times in the hospital for my Mom. Peaceful.
The parts of me I lost to my Mother's death were much smaller than the parts of her that remain within me. Telling me: You'll get that job. You look so beautiful. ALWAYS wear French perfume if you can afford it (she said that many times lol I wear it every day of my life). Those parts of Mom in me make me strive to be my better self. No matter the number of to-do lists or errands, I stop to watch the birds she loved in the yard, or listen to opera for her (now for me too) & dip fresh Italian bread in cold milk, which she treated as a delicacy.
If I win or succeed or "do right," it is for her. The most amazing things I've seen in life, the first thing I think is: Look, Mom. And she isn't in pain & she can walk & see & smile thru me, so I try to smile more, much more. My heart & mind are never without her, or without: Never forget how much I love you,if only I stop & listen.
After some crumbled tissues & way too much info, he & decided we'd do the phone interview tomorrow.
Written by frankandmary Blog about this entry
This entry has 9 comments: (Add your own)
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Glad for comments again. I understand wanting her back. Just today Pat and I were talking about our mothers. Him , not kknow ing if she was alive(Sister called drunk and said she was dead) my mama gone for 5 years and missing her with regrets for not being there when I could have been. I guess we all have mom issues of some kind or another. good luck with job.
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I missed this entry, Mary, but have heard much about it. Weird how people who share the same things come together or maybe it's fate. Love this entry. One can relate to it in so many ways. Chris
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Hi Mary,
Good luck with the interview ... very unusual to open up like that on a phone interview. I'll bet this either works out great and you get the job quickly, or they immediately tell you to forget it. With an emotional start like this, there might not be a gray area in between.
Best,
Marty -
So ... how did 'tomorrow's' interview go? Just wondering. ;)
3/31/08 8:34 AM