During my grand file clean-out, I found a document containing quotations about motherhood. I wonder if my own preoccupation with all things related to children and motherhood is related to the failure of my mother to parent compassionately? (I'm sure it is.)
Some choice quotations:
To show a child what once delighted you, to find the child's delight added to your own - is happiness.
- JB Priestley
Every mother is like Moses. She does not enter the promised land. She prepares a world she will not see.
- Pope Paul VI
The art of living is to function in society without doing violence to one's own needs or to the needs of others. The art of mothering is to teach the art of living to children.
- Elaine Heffner
Wow Claire. Thank you for sharing these. I love that last one.
ReplyDeleteThis is a little long, but I thought you might like it. I wrote about it on my blog a few months back, but this is just the story itself:
ReplyDeleteThe following story appeared in a collection of stories annotated by Steve Andreas, published by Real People Press, “Is there life after birth?”
At the time of the great flood, when the storm had just begun and the earth was beginning to be covered with water, a mother bird saw the danger. She realized that her three babies were no longer safe in their nest at the top of a high tree. Even if she remained with them, they would be swept away and drowned. So she picked up the first baby and started to fly through the storm, across the rising water, seeking a new place that would be high enough, so she might save at least one of her children.
As she flew, she spoke to the first baby, asking, “When I am very old and I can no longer take care of myself, will you dedicate your whole life to taking care of me, just as I am using all my energy and strength to take care of you now?”
And the first baby turned to her and said, “No. When your day has passed, when you can no longer take care of yourself, then I will not dedicate my whole life to taking care of you. I will dedicate all my energy and strength to taking care of myself.”
The mother bird said, “No! This is not the baby to save.” And so she let go of the first baby and it fell, helplessly flailing its tiny wings, down into the raging waves
Tired and wet, the mother bird turned and flew back to the nest, which she hoped would still be above the rising waters. She found the nest and picked up the second baby bird. Weary and wet, she struggled to fly higher, through the beating rain, against the driving wind. Seeking a new place that would be high enough, so she might save at least one of her children.
And as she struggled, she spoke to the second baby, asking, “When I am very old and I can no longer take care of myself, will you dedicate your whole life to taking care of me, just as I am using all my energy and strength to take care of you now?”
And the second baby turned to her and said, “Yes. When you have used all your energy and strength, when you are too exhausted to go further, I will dedicate my whole life to taking care of you.”
And the mother bird said, “No! This also is not the baby to save.” And so she let go of the second baby and it fell, helplessly flailing its tiny wings, down into the raging waves.
Almost exhausted now, bedraggled, beaten by the driving rain and raging wind, summoning all her remaining strength, the mother bird turned and flew back to the nest, which she hoped would still be above the rising waters. She found the nest and, just as the raging waves washed it away, she picked up the third baby bird. With barely enough strength to rise above the foam and spray, to move forward against the driving wind, she struggled bravely on. Desperately seeking a new place that would be high enough, so she might save at least one of her children.
And as she struggled, with her voice and body failing, she spoke to the third baby, asking, “When I am very old and I can no longer take care of myself, will you dedicate your whole life to taking care of me, just as I am using all my energy and strength to take care of you now?”
And the third baby turned to her and said, “No. When you have used all your energy and strength, when you are too exhausted to go further, I will not dedicate my whole life to taking care of you. But instead, I will dedicate all my strength and energy to taking care of my children, just as you are taking care of me now.”
And the mother bird said, “Yes! This is the baby to save.”And with renewed hope and renewed strength, she steadily flew higher and faster and further. Despite the beating rain, despite the driving wind, despite the raging waves. She flew steadily. And she did find a new place that was high enough to save the baby who must be saved.
You are that last baby bird, Claire, the one who was saved.
ReplyDeleteSadly, your mother became the first baby bird - the one who would only take care of herself (possibly because she had a mother who was the same).
But you are breaking the cycle. You are already different, and will become moreso to break the chains of dysfunction that have been connecting each generation to the next in your FOO.
Aww, shucks. :o) Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing *enough* taking care of my children, though, because while I raise them, I'm also raising myself in some ways. It's hard to balance. Each is necessary to the other.
ReplyDeleteI always wonder how much of my mother's history to share. She is very touchy about "betraying her confidence" and I'm not sure how much I agree with her. How much of her story is only hers to tell? How much of it is mine, too? The short version is that her father was a worse narcissist than she is. Her mother was an enabler. In her adolescence, her mother died - so not only did she have this damaging father figure who inflicted her narcissistic wound on her, but she also lost her mother figure, which I think stunted her emotional growth even further, especially when she herself became a mother.
I agree, it's hard to decide how much of our family's history we should share with others. I believe that their history is ours too, so certainly we have rights to it. But I think what you're describing is the feeling of betrayal (I know that feeling)...I still haven't talked much about my own family dysfunctions (or mine!) on my blog because it feels like a betrayal to my family on some level. I worry about how they'd feel if I shared information about our family on my blog.
ReplyDeleteI too wonder if I'm doing "enough" for my children. Right now, I feel like I'm not...but maybe that's a good thing? Maybe it will continue to push me in the direction of trying harder, doing a better job. I think there is a really fine line between beating ourselves up as parents, and acknowledging our faults enough to know that we can change them.
I think you're doing okay, Claire. I really do. You're working so hard at all of this! It's evident in what you write about. I can see your passion and your desire to be a healthier, better, stronger you, both for yourself and for your FOC.