With what price we pay for the glory of motherhood. Isadora Duncan
In the evening of her existence and on the eve of another Mother’s Day far away from her, I reflect on my mother’s life and wonder who she was and how we could have understood each other better?
I can not help but consider that given how very close in age we were with my siblings, the strain of raising so many young children together, must have taken an enormous toll on her both physically and emotionally. Looking back, I wish I could have gotten to know the woman she was inside. I wish I would have been told of the dreams she forgot on the threshold of her busy family life. So many women of her generation did not even realize they were forgetting themselves and went right through living, without ever connecting with their inner self. Taking care of everyone and everything while letting aside this burning desire to be themselves.
Was she a dreamer, living in the clouds of her mind?Was she a realist with both her feet solidly anchored on the ground? Or even a wild adventurer ready to take on the world? I guess I will never know and it pains me so. She is a powerful warning of how important it is to try our best and nurture our inner side the one that too often, gets buried deep under our every day responsibilities. Seeing her pain and suffering while feeling so helpless, also reminds me of how precious time is. How important it is to try to find that one specific dream/wish/passion within ourselves, the one we’ve always wanted to follow and never got around to.
The distance between us is making it very hard to ask all the questions I have, and her failing health is making it impossible to dig deeper. The time we had together was always laden with challenges. I fully understand now she is the one I have to thank, for making me so strong. This makes me appreciate even more, the blessing my relationship with Darling Daughter truly is. A kind of mother-daughter relationship I did not know could exist, one that fulfills all my dreams.
The pink orchid in this glass bubble would have been something my mother would love, so it seemed fitting for me to choose it for today’s post. Hugging her tight from afar, I wish her Happy Mother’s Day even if in France, it will be celebrated on the last Sunday of the month of May.
Joyeuses Fêtes des Mères, maman et merci pour tout
- The Women In My Life (mistresssopia.wordpress.com)