Archive for Month: May, 2009
Weekly Winners LXXVII {The Mother Letter Edition}
Happy Mother’s Day!
The following was written for the Mother Letter Project.
My Real Letter
A few weeks ago I started to compose a letter to my children, and then something happened. I kind of lost it; in a “mama’s having a meltdown” kind of way. I wanted to write this beautiful letter of how motherhood has changed me for the better and that these children are the lights of my life. I wanted to write how everything is perfect and grand. Frankly, I wanted to lie.
After I had my “mama-meltdown” I got in my van and drove for a while (3 whole hours) and when I got home I trudged up the stairs, embarrassed by my behavior. I got in a hot shower and sobbed. The tears met with the streaming water but, oddly, neither had a cleansing effect. It was in *that* moment that I decided to hit the big road for one of our big road trips back to our home town of Buffalo, NY. Certainly I would see the true meaning of what it meant to be a mother by getting into a van with my children. My hope was that in nine hundred miles I would figure things out.
I packed us up and early one Sunday morning we set off. When I cranked up the van, we heard a man say, “Have you tried….peace?” And it became our trip’s motto (it would become more, much more, in actuality.) Fifteen hours together in a van makes us all a little crazy, so what better than trying peace? If someone got a little cuckoo, another would pipe up asking if the crazy one tried peace. At one point I was feeling a little frustrated at the noise level. The frustration was overly apparent.
“Hey Mama….have you tried peace?” my third born son, Benjamin, asked.
“No, Benny. I forgot to try it.” I bluntly answered.
“Well, try it. You know, peace is really good.” he reminded me.
He was right.
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Thinking about what I’d write for my Mother Letter I realized that I wasn’t doing anyone justice by sugar coating and stating that this life we live together is all rainbows and ribbons and pink lemonade. It’s not; it’s chock full of obstacles, worry, doubt, and frustration. However, even with all of that we have a wonderful hardcore love amongst us. We have music flowing freely. We have laughter that infects us to the point of stomachs’ aching. We have hugs that are tight and we have kisses that are non-stop.
Nothing is perfect, nor should it be. If it was perfect, it would be a lie. And that’s why I scrapped that first letter. I could easily talk about the beauty of it all. I realize, though, that the grit of life is the beauty. Without it we would be nothing. So now, I just strive for peace. Peace in the knowledge that as we go through this hectic, crazy, strange life we are bound by a love that is indescribable. Peace in the fact that these four entities that I pushed through my loins into the world were made out of love. Peace in knowing that, while insanity may strike us daily, with all our flaws, with all our troubles, with all our being, we are what we are.
Have you tried peace?
I am. I really am. Daily. It’s the best I can do. It’s the best we all can do.
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We Always Hang in a Buffalo Stance
STORY ONE:
Davey was introduced to Baba and Dedo’s ledge last week. That ledge has housed flower pots, purses at holiday times, picture frames, as well as my my butt, my cousins’ butts, and my kids’ butts, too! Seeing Davey up there was fulfilling. The kids were all obsessed about his safety. I simply said, “Guys! He isn’t the first kid to climb and sit up there. I let all of you up there and have pictures to prove it.”
He could have fallen, sure. He could have bumped his head, yeah. He could have gotten scared of his stance, obviously. But, I had to let him. It was a small rite of passage that he himself had to experience.
STORY TWO:
These beautiful girls with my beautiful girl are the daughters of a friend of mine, from highschool. I had the pleasure of photographing them at a local park in our home town. It was such a delicious experience that I ate the whole thing up and was so full up from the love of it all that I even may have burped. The girls became fast friends and Olivia was even invited to spend the day with them, this summer, when we go back.
Olivia sat with my friend while I photographed her girls. Afterward, when we all reunited in the middle of the park, my friend proceeded to tell me how funny Olivia was. Of course, I instantly thought that maybe she had told some not-so-appropriate joke, or story, or something.
Turns out she did. Kinda.
You see, when we met with them Olivia very politely extended her hand and introduced herself (SCORE!) And while she was sitting and talking she said, ‘You know, I know there’s all this talk about the Swine Flu, but I still shook your hand when I met you; I’m not afraid of the Swine Flu!”
Olivia also took on a loving role with another friend’s little girl. Sometimes the pride can really make you feel explosive.
Her reward: A Dr. Pepper Slurpee from 7-11
That reward sparked a whole ‘Why don’t we have 7-11′s in Georgia’ conversations. I’m still not sure, but I do think every town should have one.
STORY THREE:
Right now religion is a little lost on me. But, the same cannot be said for my faith. My faith is strong, though a little scattered. I believe what I believe while I still ponder deeper meanings.
However, I cannot look at Our Church without feeling a sense of respect, tradition, and home. There’s so much there, so much history. There’s so much to learn. There’s so much I’ll only be able to figure out on my own. For now, though, I am content with spirituality. Religion may never play a big, huge role in my life, and I’m coming to terms with that.
STORY FOUR:
I didn’t get to see everyone that I wanted to see, this time, in Buffalo. I did, however get to spend time with Pauline (and her brother’s girlfriend, Amanda) one night. We had a night filled with laughter, tarot cards, and skinny mirrors. Pauline is a sister to me. She knows this. You know this, right, PJ?
Our conversations ranged from light to heavy. Our voices boomed with laughter and muted from tears.
It is proven that we are connected deeply, no matter where we go or what we do, and to have someone in your life—that simply gets you—is amazing.
To those that I didn’t see, I apologize. Time slips by and comes around again, though. Quickly, too.
STORY FIVE:
As a mother I have a fear that I am perpetually messing up my kids. I think many mothers have this fear. Am I doing enough? Am I saying enough? Am I screwing them up? Will they write a good blog or a bad blog about me, when they grow up?
Here’s the thing, though: No matter what, when it all boils down, a child will know love. There will be hurt, ache, hardship, and struggle, but a child will know love.
As we were leaving I heard my father say to the kids that he was used to us leaving and that he wasn’t going to cry (he used to always cry), and he didn’t. When he hugged me, though, he cried. Love is truly a twisted tangled mess sometimes. A welcomed mess, indeed.
Aside: When I made my first blog, it was titled “We Always Hang in Buffalo Stance” but I like Secret Agent Mama much better!
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