Sometimes you don't know what you know until you need to really know. Ya know?

I woke up this morning knowing that it is Mother's Day and feeling a bit down that I can't pick up the phone and call my mom. Given that I have only recently taken some time to reflect and appreciate the positive impact she made in my life, I am acutely feeling her absence  today.  I am also wishing that my kids could be here with me, with hand made gifts (the best kind), and hugs.  Actually, my son did make me a card and then took a picture and posted it on Facebook for me.  Loved it!

So, what kind of mother am I?  Not perfect, that's for sure. But not awful either.  Same goes for my mother.  She gave the best to all of us that she had to give, and it was a vast improvement on what she received from her mother, who no doubt tried her hardest to be a good mother in spite of her own hurt and pain. 

Hurt and pain.  We've all had some of that.  Without it, we would be incredibly fragile and merely a shell of the person we are meant to be.
My maternal grandmother had hurt and pain. An unfaithful husband who only stayed on in the home when she became pregnant with my mother - in her forties! She raised 5 children during the depression. Because of her own upbringing, she had little capacity for expressing love to anyone, which ultimately ended her marriage, and caused her children to distance themselves later in life.
My mother had hurt and pain.  She was painfully aware of the anger and resentment between her parents, and suffered through it until her father finally left the family when she was 17.  He left them for the woman he was involved with before my mother was conceived. She was the product of a ill-gotten attempt to save a marriage, and lived a lonely life as a child.
I had hurt and pain.  My mom probably seldom heard the words "I love you" and therefore did not appear to have the capacity to say that to me.  I was also an unplanned child and I believe that my mother suffered from a significant depression when I was young. I remember her crying, I remember my aunt coming to take care of us when my mother was "ill" for several weeks.  I remember being told to "go outside" when I really wanted to just hang out with her. I was not allowed to express my own feelings, and in fact, was punished with isolation when I did.  "If you are going to cry, then go to your room!" 
But my mom loved me!  I knew that from her actions which had to speak louder than words.  She was a master sewer and made me beautiful clothing. She had a cool way of coming up with ideas to keep a busy little girl entertained.  I owe all of my creativity to her.  She spoke her mind even to people in authority and I owe my assertiveness and ability to stand up for myself to witnessing those moments when she stood up for me.
I married the wrong man the first time around.  He was much older than me and we had little, if anything, in common.  But he gave me 2 beautiful children, Holly and Mike.  They had hurt and pain too, because they had to deal with parents who had their heads up their ass far too often.  But, I know that they developed some of their greatest strengths from their hard experiences. 

This is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to my daughter at one of the lowest points in her adult life:

...you have everything you need to create an awesome destiny for yourself and your son.  Many of the strengths you have may have been born out of the hardest times of your life, but is that not true of all of us? If you had and idyllic life, you would have few, if any, survival skills and you would be feeling lost and helpless right now.  I know however, that in the midst of your hurting you are also turning to your power.  You are not without resources and I know you know this.  Where does your power originate?  From taking care of me when I was so sick 20 years ago. A little girl who helped take care of her sick mother and her little brother, has become a capable and confident woman who can take good care of her little boy and make a life for herself.
Dealing with parents who had their heads up their ass far too much of the time gave you an awareness of trying to always believe in the best about people even when they were at their worst...

Reading this, I realise that we, as mothers, give the best of what we have to our children and they in turn build on that before passing it along to theirs.  I had a great mom, I was a great mom, and my daughter is one too.

I get this now.  I hope I keep this knowledge in the part of my brain that remembers important stuff instead of some dusty shelf in my sub-consciousness.  Sometime you don't know what you know until you need to really know... ya know?

It's me , Jan