The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Just Sittin' Here Watching The Wheels Go Round And Round




I sort of hit a slump yesterday, despite having my grandsons and knowing that Jessie and Vergil were coming. I had a wonderful time with the boys and at one point when the three of us were playing on my bed we were all laughing so hard, the boys shrieking with laughter, that I thought someone might call the police.
But. Some sort of heaviness descended again and I'm glad that last night's post got up because that martini hit me like a box of hammers and I was barely coherent for the next few hours until I went to bed.

I've been reading a bit about a certain type of personality which I don't even want to name here but which would explain a whole lot about my mother and her relationship with her children and specifically me, the daughter. I'm not naming it (now, at least) because it feels as if I am accusing my mother of something and she's dead and can't defend herself if I'm wrong but I don't think I'm wrong and it's sort of like seeing the color blue all your life and no one around you can see the color blue and so you think there's something wrong with you, probably a brain tumor or something until one day you discover that yes, there certainly is a color blue and the inability of others to see it is not your fault.

Okay. It's not really like that at all.

But it's something to think about. All these years of wondering why it did not feel as if my mother loved me even though she said she did, repeatedly, wondering why I never felt as if I were good enough, wondering why I felt it so necessary to build such walls between us, why being with her always made me feel so shit-like- all of this I suddenly find may have an answer and it's a lot to take in.

It's all a lot to take in. But there is time. This is not a smooth road that any of us are on and certainly not when there is a death of a parent.

And it's a beautiful morning. The same yard which was so quiet and moon-lit last night that there were shadows is now dappled and drenched with the sunlight and it's warm and I can feel the fecundity of the earth, smell it. We ate our breakfast outside and two male cardinals were chasing each other away from the feeder or from something and the camellias are decorating the bushes and really, there is nothing I have to do today. Banks and law offices are closed and I will probably do some laundry and clean out the hen house but beyond that, I have no plans at all. Visit with my children, maybe see those boys again later today or tomorrow. I could sit here and watch Rolling Stones videos all damn day long if that's what I really wanted to do.

I can think or not think. I can choose what to think about. I can think about Gibson and how rough and tumble that little boy is going to be with that big brother of his. They roll over each other like puppies and smush each other with their love and when Gibson stands up by himself without holding on to anything which he is starting to do more regularly, Owen notes that and calls us excitedly to look and see what his brother is doing. I can think about all the love I have in my life and how that love extends back and forth to us all and that is all that matters.
Everything else, whether it is laundry or chickenshit or washing dishes or the pure white camellias or anything, everything, is all a part of that love if I think about it, and I do and like Owen with his brother, I take note and I call out excitedly. Or at least, I call out because every day, no matter what else is going on, I am astounded at the fact of such love once again.




11 comments:

ellen abbott said...

Well, I would certainly be interested in knowing what that personality type is since I had a huge barrier erected between me and my mother.

Kelly said...

I want to know about that personality type too in hopes it would answer some questions about my mother and I. And I am so happy you have the love of those little boys (who are so adorable). It is such a contrast to everything else you are dealing with, a beautiful escape. Children save us. I believe that. Mine save me all the time.

Petit fleur said...

Glad you are finding some answers. Processing that kind of info can be a job in and of itself. But a good job. Hopefully a shifting and resettling of the spirit will take place and you will feel more at ease with the world/life.

I have been trying to choose what I think... (YOu mentioned you may do that) and Ive found that my mind is like a runaway train. I wish I could think what I chose. Im trying.

Have a sweet day.
xo

heartinhand said...

I love that Lennon song.

I think about my relationship with my dead mother all the time. Reading about your loss has made me revisit my own and my feelings about all of that.

If you have an answer, I'd love to hear it because I think it might help more than you.

A friend constantly tells me that our mothers did what they could with what they had. It puts a mild balm on it but a cure would be nice.

Peace to you today and always.

Angella said...

you're on a quest for answers to the questions that plagued you your whole life, and may it ever feel safe for you to confront the answers, no matter where you find them. i am so sorry you always felt that your mother did not love you. I ache to think of it, but then I thrill to the love you went on to create all around yourself, the generations that follow you, so that owen knows that his little brother standing on his own will be celebrated by everyone, he doesn't even question it, the love. you did that. in spite of everything, you, mary moon, are a powerful force of love. i bask in it.

Elizabeth said...

Angella said it all, and we all know that Angella is one of the wisest women in the world.

xoxox

Lo said...

I am thrilled that you are having some insights about your mother. Be brave. Do not fafraid to embrace them and pursue them. They can set you free.
Love, Lo

Denise Emanuel Clemen said...

Love is the center.
I know only what you've written here about your mother, never shared a martini, a day in the kitchen or a night on the town with you. But it seems to me that a mother's job is to love AND protect. To say that didn't go so well in your case would be an understatement, I think.
While you are very wise, it seems to me, Mrs. Moon, you have a lot to process in this time after your mother's death. It was a complicated relationship, and the processing may take you some time. May you remember at every moment that you are surrounded by love.

Anonymous said...

I'll bet your insight is correct. And I'll bet in your truthtelling way that you eventually share it with us. There are reasons why people act the way they do and you may have discovered why. It doesn't change any of the good things, it only sheds light on the harder things. As you told me after one of my comments about my own mother, I get it. I get your insight also, and probably had the same about my mother. Truth, even if you don't share it, will set you free. Peace, Love, and Keith!

Ms. Moon said...

Ellen Abbott- I'm sure there will be more on this subject. You know me. I can't shut up.

Kelly- I've always said that- that my children have saved me. They saved me when they were babies and growing up and they save me now when they're grown and my grandchildren are saving me too. Amen.

Ms. Fleur- When I have been in the red zone of, uh, mental challenges, I could not for the life of me choose what to think. So I understand what you're saying. I do.

Heart in hand- I'll write more. I promise.
And I wish I could comment on your blog but I can't due to wordpress issues. Damn them. I'm sorry. I'm reading.

Angella- I sit here and I pause, thinking about what to say to that because it is so deeply profound and moving to me. I will do my best to figure this shit out. And I know that I am saved daily by my family and by this family here, too. Thank you.

Elizabeth- She is, isn't she? And so are you, by the way.

Lo- You have no idea (have I already said this?) how much I appreciate and believe your words. You give me so much damn hope. Thank you.

Denise- God. Yes. All of that. Yes. Thank you.

Anonymous- Honey, let's go have a drink. Thank you.

Syd said...

Eating outside like that under the trees is heaven, isn't it? It seems to be done in Europe more than in the US. And all this reminds me that we need to eat out more on our table on the deck. It's good to be home after a week away. But there is nothing like a geographic cure for a few days.