Several good girlfriends are feeling discouraged, frustrated and just plain rejected by their adult children today. One daughter has left the home and is worrying her mother sick with casual comments about potential pregnancies and bad drugs. Another is dealing with an angry son who doesn't support her as she moves away from a long and unhappy marriage. Still another sighs with relief that her daughter is moving to another town because she feels "eaten alive" by this girl's demands for time, support and money. A fourth is estranged from her daughters and dreaded this holiday, as many do. I talked to a half-dozen middle-aged moms today, and the common theme seems to be "when does it end? When do I get sprung from this job?" Of course, the answer is, never.
How do I feel about this weird holiday? Was it really invented by Hallmark Cards, like everyone says? Is it a good thing--other than for restaurants, flower shops and of course, Hallmark? Do we really feel better if they call, and worse if they don't?
Jon gave money to the Burmese monks for me today and I am glad. We are discussing how we can turn these questionable "holidays" into something more meaningful, more gratifying--to help us be mindful of all of our relationships with all other human beings. Can we find ways to honor all people-to be inclusive rather than divisive in our attention? Can we care more about those we have never met?
If you are a mother, you know about this: the smell of a baby's head as he sleeps on your chest.
No card comes close to that.
Three months post-op today.
love,
claudie
No comments:
Post a Comment