MY MOTHER'S LIFE:

The Limb From Which I've Grown.

by

Ann Mortifee

It is harder than I thought it would be to write about my mother. Since I have become a mother myself, my heart has opened deeply toward her. I see that the love that binds me so unconditionally to my child, is the same love that binds my mother so unconditionally to me. It is a powerful enfolding this mother-child bond, a deep and mysterious link. My grandmother had the same rapt attention toward her daughter, my mother, who is now placing that focused attention upon me. And this attention upholds me as I gaze toward my own child, seeing the future in him, as my mother saw the future in me; and her mother saw the future in her; and back as far as our great great great great grandmothers go.

I am a cog in a giant wheel that is moving evolution forward. I will not know what my child will know, as my mother cannot fully know me. Whether she is conscious of it or not, she is thrusting me forward into a world she can never enter. And as she thrusts me forward, I, in turn, thrust my child on ahead; as he will his child; and on and on until our descendants disappear somewhere in the mists of time.

My mother is not meant to understand me. I am meant to understand her: To take her into myself, to claim her experience for mine. To learn from her, to grow wise through her, to include and accept her so totally that all judgment ceases and I am finally freed to move on.

Whether my mind says she was a 'good' mother or a 'bad' mother, the task remains the same: If I want to be at peace with myself, if I want to reach the fullness of my own potential, I must come to understand, to forgive and to have heartfelt compassion for the road my mother has traveled, for the wounds she has carried, for the choices that were possible or impossible for her to make. As I grow more able to integrate the past, I grow plump with the possibility of the next season's growth. And thus the tree of life grows full and tall, needing always to include all that has been, so that all that might yet be, will find a sturdy limb from which to grow.

My mothers life is the limb from which I have grown.

And I want you to know, Mum, that I am proud to be your daughter. I have watched you weather a thousand storms. I have seen you stripped bare and still seeking to give shelter. I have marveled at your endurance, your courage, your resilient heart. And to know that I carry that heart within my own heart, is a gift and a comfort for which I will always be grateful. you have held me to the light as I have reached, like our sisters over the centuries reached, for safety, equality and self-worth. Thank you, Mum.

ANN MORTIFEE * ARTICLES INDEX