MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS

I remember clearly the screaming coming from my mother's bedroom.  I was four years old and I was playing with my toys in my room.  Pretending again that everything was beautiful and normal.  In a wisdom beyond my years I knew this was bad and getting worse.  Instead of hiding in my room, I went.......the child warrior to defend......once again....my fragile mother against her girlfriend, Steve. 

They were fighting and Steve hit her hard just as I came around the corner.  My mother went down and Steve, realizing I was there, probably with my mouth open in horror, said to me, "Go help your mother now."

Curled up on her side, her face already bruising, she tried pushing me away.  My mother was my total existance.  It was my job to protect her.  I knew this in my heart and soul.  I knew she was fragile and I was strong.  So I layed my head on her chest and tried to give her what comfort I could.

They made up later.  Steve brought my mother flowers and a big box of chocolates.  I remember laying on their bed while they smoked a joint.  The sweet smell of marijuana swirling blue above my head....the sweet taste of the different chocolates melting in my mouth. 

The adults in my life had their masks firmly back in place and it appeared all was right with the world.  But inside I knew better.  Through the music and the parties, the moving and dislocation, I knew there was another way to be and love and connect that wasn't built on disrespect and a power that wasn't ever balanced.

When I became a mother I remember nursing my daughter and telling her out loud that she could be anything in the World, that she could find her calling, be healthy, happy........and that she would never have to protect me against anyone.  I would protect her and never forget that is my job. 

Our children see us at all moments....seen and unseen to us.  They feel the waves of longing or regret, lust and anger, passion and fury.  Through their yet tender souls they filter what they feel and see and process it.  Some of it buried for a rainy day.  Some of it never to see the light of day but impacts why we are what we are.  Some of it becomes a mantra as to , " I will never be like that" only to fall into the same despair and trappings of that previous generation.

Out of the box I was born and thrust into so many challenges that I never landed long enough to feel safe except within my own skin.  When my children have problems and challenges I force myself to stop and remember not to give them some random safe answer but rather a tool that can serve them into their life. 

I know I won't always be here to call upon, to answer, to guide, to nurture.  I know that at any moment my time could be up.  Not trying to be morose here but I have no guarantees, none of us do. 

When it comes down to it, what does it serve you?  Is it through love that you want this?  Is it for your betterment?  Will you be challenged by this?  Or is it about control and anger and other base motivations.  Each and every day we have a chance at bliss, even if it's only within our heart. 

Walk out there with a purpose for I have given you skills to reason and endure and to love.  Everything else perhaps is just an illusion.