Have You Called Your Mother?

Mother_Call_Her_Missindeedy

The Nana and I have fought, and hard, for our relationship over these last 40 some-odd years.  It’s been worth it.

Where we are now?  It’s a good place.

There was a period of time, an altogether-too-long period of years, where my mama would be the last person I’d call for advice, comfort, or inspiration to carry on.   Is that a harsh thing for some of you mothers to read?  I’m sorry.  It is a true story.  One that, I hope, makes what I write next, about my mom, all the sweeter.

Ours is a relationship redemption story, if there ever was one.

Walking down that road of pending motherhood, I realized that all of these hopes and dreams that I had for my own sweet children, were tied up tightly with every fiber of my being. And that was a frightening revelation, a scary prospect, and a depressing way to behold the future of my children. Does that make sense to some of you? The thought overpowered me that, “I was only going to be able to do the best that I could with what I had.”

Sadness permeated my heart at that thought, followed by no small amount of resentment.  I didn’t feel like my mother had prepared me for this mighty job that I now had.

And, at that point in our relationship, I didn’t feel that I could or would ask her for her help. Nor did I think, for a moment, that she would have any constructive or encouraging words of wisdom to share.

Redemption sometimes comes unexpectedly. As I lay with my firstborn nursing him in the wee hours one morning, it dawned on me that my mama truly did do the very best that she could with what she had.

That brought a softening to my heart.  And, ultimately, opened the door to some Grand Scale Healing in our relationship.

Is it sunshine and unicorns now?

Nope.

It is progress.  And Love.  It’s a blooming friendship built on the hope of continued trust and a committment to slather on the grace whenever and wherever.  It’s all of these things, and so many more, wrapped up together to strengthen the fibers of my being.

And, hopefully, hers too.

Now?  I do ask her. All the time, it seems, I ask her what she thinks I should do, could I have handled this better, which outfit should I wear to this event. It’s almost like these last 8 years or so, we’ve been making up for lost time, cramming each interaction with as much mother-daughter love as it can possibly hold.

And I am deeply grateful.

My mother, The Nana, my mama?  She is a gift to me; a precious gift that truly does keep on giving, with each new day that we spend knowing that we are mother and her daughter.  This redeemed relationship is a gift from the God who sees; and isn’t afraid to reach right in and continue to draw us closer to one another, and to Him.

Dear Mama,

I love you.  I’m so glad you’re MY mom. 

Now, turn on your phone, you’re about to receive a call.

Love,

Pooh