When I think about the people in my life and all I have experienced because of them, I overflow with gratitude. I remember the ebb and flow of relationship between my mom and me—loving her, adoring her, resisting her, loving her. And although she has been gone for over 20 years, I still find how deep I am in relationship with her today. I am learning from that magical space that existed between us and exists even now.
Recently, while remembering a scene from my young adult years, I learned more about who she was in saving things, holding on, storing away and hoarding more. That had been so hard for me as her daughter; I had so many judgments and felt embarrassed and disgusted. However, for my mom, it was simply a consequence of her life’s story.
My dear mother grew up the oldest child in a family with ailing parents. She left school in 6th grade and took care of her parents and raised the children. She also had to earn money for the family to survive.
My mom loved us, her children, so dearly. She never wanted us ever to suffer as she did. All the stacks of things she had were her history, never just stuff. Not only did they contain the stories of her life, her abilities, her dreams for us, they were also her protective mothering, wanting her children to know we would be safe and have what we need.
She wanted us to receive and enjoy what she had to offer and not want for things as she did. She did not even want thanks.
I wasted years, time with her, pushing away her form of love. What a shame; may I never do that with another person.
Who is longing for you to accept their love in the form they are offering?
How can you see their love beyond the form?
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