My mother committed suicide when I was 7 years old. I've been motherless for 33 years and I can vehemently say to the eyes that fall upon this written passage that not a day goes by that I do not long for a little piece of something of her that brings me that comfort you cannot get from anyone or anywhere else. The seed bearer and connection to my creation was severed at an age when I had no understanding that you could even take your own life. There are days when the longing is more painful than the bearing of a child without the aids of medication to numb the pain. There are days when the anger flares so viciously that I become ashamed of my own thoughts because on these days I find her the most selfish woman to have ever existed. It took me a long time to forgive my mother for abandoning me. The healing began when I had my own children and when I started to learn that the pedestal I put her and every other adult on was completely collapsible and that there is no infallible human being. We are all so easily breakable and dysfunctional that it’s the one thing we as humans all have in common. It’s easy to judge when you have no idea of the fragility of a person’s heart.
Every Mother’s Day that went by since her death was torment…I could not jump out of bed excitedly every second Sunday of May at the crack of dawn so I could rush to the kitchen and make her something disgusting because I loved her by trying to show her with my small incapable hands just how much. I could not write extremely long messages of saturated adoration in her cards while forgetting about the pain in the arse she might have been the day before. I never had the luxury of being able to get really mad at her and scream “I hate you!” like a brat that needed a backhand as I stomped to my room to slam the door. I never had any of that. And as long as I am alive, I will never have it.
So my message to all of you who are so extremely frikking lucky to still have your Mother’s is treasure them. Please. You are never bigger than the woman who brought you into this world regardless of who you think you are or where you are in the false hierarchy of life. There is no hug like the arms of your mother, no nod of approval with a quiet and proud smile, no nagger wiser than her, no person who loves you more than the woman who goes bat shit crazy if anyone tries to hurt you.
I know life is not ideal and there are issues between humans who can’t seem to get it together but nothing is more important than the person who gave you the greatest gift ever: Life. Celebrate it and your Mother not just tomorrow but every day in small ways because you never know when the next Mother’s Day comes around whether you’ll be wishing she was still with you, no matter how crazy she drives you. It sucks.
How I see it...
I see, speak and write in metaphors because I feel there is much we can learn from nature, people and our surroundings as depicted in my photographs and why I enjoy sharing my thoughts. Not in any attempt to convince or convert you to my way of thinking, seeing or feeling but to share how I see and experience MY mind map of the world. You at no time have to agree, all I ask is that my views and the views of others who wish to express theirs are kindly respected. So relax, get comfy and just enjoy. Happy reading!