Anything is possible.
I’ve never really seen my mom as a role model. Yeah, I said it. For me, the fact that thought existed in my mind divulges a lot about our relationship, how I view her, how I respect her – or don’t respect her. Which is why what I’m about to say means something.
Yes, I give her credit for having grit and getting through shit and doing everything she can. But it wasn’t until recently that I saw her for more than my mom.
When someone has a certain role in your life your whole life, it’s hard to see him/her otherwise. It doesn’t come natural to me to think of my mom as a human being that existed before I came and blessed her life. Lol jk. But it really is difficult to see. And it causes me to take her for granted, not just as my mom, but as a person.
But things have been a-changing.
Over the years her voice was muted, her passions dulled, neglected, swept to the dusty recesses of her existence. But the thing with the heart is, in the end, you can’t deny it. Or you can, and it turns into bitterness and loneliness, a festering wound. I admit, I was one of those that had belittled her and spoken to her as if I had something better to offer. Oh, how little I knew.
But things have been a-changing.
From that treacherous, wearisome, exhausting journey called her life, she has stepped into her own. Correction: she is stepping into her own. The desires of her heart, the passion, the hunger, the life that had appeared so absent, so dry… they are real. For her, they express themselves through music. Yeah, music. Very simply. The piano, keyboard, violin, her voice. For the past 25+ years she told herself, and she was told that there wasn’t enough time and energy in this life to feed those hungers. She poured out on everything around her, giving everything her best shot, while forgetting where her heart found rest and energy and hope.
Today, she refuses to ignore the calling of her heart and that in itself is something that nothing in the whole wide world can deny her. Every moment she spends cradling the violin, hovering over the keyboard, the piano, she finds herself. The person that existed before… everything, the person that was unattached to obligations, burdens, rules. She finds a piece every time and today she is not afraid to claim it as her own.
For that I respect her. Don’t get me wrong though. After years of not practicing, the violin doesn’t sound so sweet in her hands as it once did. Her fingers falter around the black and white keys. But she continues, she strives, she endures – not by force, nor by another’s needs. No, just by her own need. But see, that’s what I respect all the more. Not the skill. I respect her heart. I respect that she understands she’s not where she could have been, and yet, she continues. She attacks her practices with voraciousness, a desire to grow and improve and prepare herself to contribute something worthwhile, something beautiful, something good to those that can receive it. For that I respect her.
56, and just starting. Or maybe all this time was the start. Just the start of something awesome, something true and full. I have no idea. But I cannot deny she’s stepping into her own. Honestly, this sounds stupid because I’m her daughter but I’m proud of her. I’m proud to be her daughter, her flesh and blood. She is finally getting what she deserves.
Kudos to you, Mom. You’ll never see this, you don’t even know how to send an email. But I hope that our interactions, my expression of gratitude and pride toward you will let you know what’s real. I just want you to keep going. Just don’t stop following your heart. There’s something precious in there that the world cannot live without. Please let it out. We need it. Forgive me for my words, my doubt, my rejection. I’m still in the processing of stepping into my own too. Thanks for everything. Even without all this “times are a-changing”. Just, thank you for being a mom, my mom. Thanks for the gentleness. You still frustrate me. But thanks. Because I probably frustrate you a billion times more. And yet you are so gracious. Thanks. Thanks. Thanks. You are the best. You have always tried to be the best. And I think it’s about time you know it, breathe it, embrace it. Beyond my mother, you are an amazing person, a stellar human being. Thanks.
I am my mom’s daughter.