The Epiphany!

I love my mom. If love were enough, life would be easy... well easier. I have struggled for many many years on why she made some of the choices she did. I have judged her harshly for those decisions partly because they impacted my life directly.

As I became a mother, many moons ago, I found my anger towards her bubbling over. I never understood how she allowed us to live with a monster. I never understood why she did not walk away. I never understood not having strength to walk away from hell.

As she has "grown" over the years, she can see the imprints on our lives from surviving the childhood that we had to. It has taken years for her to shun what society, family and friends dictated to her for many many miserable years... and for her to claim her life as hers.

I can't lie and say that it is OK that she does that now... because I have forever wished she was strong enough to had made that choice when it would have impacted us (her children)... saved us from so much pain and hurt. Yet... I am thankful that she HAS made the the choice. Maybe she was forced to make the choice. But she still has to live with the choice.

I have wondered at what I viewed as her weakness. I never understood why she allowed her siblings to bully her. I never understood this and viewed it as weakness.

Over the last little while, I have met a lady from Iran. She moved her with her husband. After a period of time, she decided that living with him was unacceptable. His behavior and attitude was not something she could live with ... unless she compromised herself.

So she has left him. She has no family her. She has come into a culture totally different than her own. She is unsure where or what this means. She loves him yet can't not live with him unless he changes. So she lives continues to live her life, one day at a time. Sad and unsure. Desperately sad. Yet she has a belief system that she can not bend and live with her self.

I think of her often. Suddenly I can't help thinking of my mom. Young, alone and scared. Her family (when she did ask once for help...) said no, suck it up. Never again does she ask. If your family is not going to help you, why would you turn to a stranger? So she lives a life as she only knows. Day by day. Month by month. Years pass and you learn to survive. You look for little happiness' ... eventually living through your children... their happiness becomes your happiness.

I have wanted my mom to be sorry... to feel that let down that I feel. I am not sure what I wanted... but maybe just to punish her for the pain. Punishing her for not being stronger. Punishing her for having to become the parent. Punishing her for feeling for so many years as an orphan.

Maybe sometimes it is really just about personality. Maybe sometimes some people can rise in the midst of hell and walk out.
And maybe some people are just strong enough to survive it. Really who am I to judge?

As I think of my own children and the kind of mom I am to them... I am not perfect. There are so many ways that I fall short... and KNOW I am falling short. Yet as I keep living one day after another, I can't help but simply pray that they will know how much I love them. In the end, they will know, that I simply loved them and did my best. All I can hope for is that my best is enough for them. That my children will forgive my shortcomings and accept my love ... as simple as that.

Do I wish my mom was stronger? Definitely. I wish she would stand up to her sister and call her what she is. I wish my mom would not let my children push her around. I wish she had more purpose in her life than her children. I wish that she had true joy. But then maybe she does. Maybe that is what gives her joy, her grandchildren. Maybe living her life through us is enough for her.

Who am I too judge? Everything happens for a reason. If my mom had made different choices, maybe I would not be living my life as I know it. I would not be able to share the pains of others as my own. I would not be able to be grateful for every little blessing in my life... a dependable car, dependable husband, dependable friends... everyday blessings that I know are gifts.

So as I continue to look at my friend from Iran and cheer her on from the side lines, I know that she has paid a big price for her beliefs. I know my mom has paid a price ...a huge one.

She did what she could do at that moment. I know it was her best. Why wouldn't do their best for their child? And if they do not, then imagine what they must live with?

So I feel a huge freedom. I feel that my mom made choices in her life that were life altering. But the bottom line is if she did not make those decisions, I would probably not have my life as I know it.

So ... I give God thanks for all His protection and strength. Really it is only through His love that I survived. And I thank my mom for doing her best. I can only appreciate that to the fullest as a parent, trying to do right by my own precious beings.