my mothers garden,.... I found my own!
What a wonderful phrase. The first time I saw it, it made me stop and think. How this phrase applies to so many of the times and happenings between my mother and I, is deep and profound. History in the making as we grew older. My growing up and leaving home, my life as it was effected and evolved around hers. The control and influence of one upon another when there is no-one to step in and offer a different view, or ask for a variation in attitude toward one or the other. When none is allowed, leaves someone at greater risk. A risk that could leave deep scars for a life time that will never heal. And who is there to know? The one at risk seldom is allowed a voice, even in old age. "Suffer in silence". How rich is that meaning? Does one? Must one?
I don't think so. No one should ever have to endure such a thing, and yet where the mother began the daughter prevails. And why? Because it pleases her? Just because she can? Is it truly worth the pain and heartache it inflicts? What does this say about the kind of person she has become? Was the one so right, so perfect she need be repeated in all manner and being?
I have never seen where so hurtful a wrong made the repeating of the act, right. I can only feel sorry for that one. It spells out a great deal in the lack of upbringing, manners or morals that must have been present, let along the selfishness of intent to have let ... no intended for this to go on for so long.
What must have been in that mind. It shows a sad lack of maturity, not to mention a great deal worse.
I've known others who have lived with like problems or perhaps they should be called memories? Many never get over what was inflicted on them as a child. Some have risen above the pain and hurtfulness, only to be struck again by another of like mind with the same eternal intent. I simply cannot understand why anyone would carry something that mean, and vile so far and never bother to examine their own thoughtlessness or take ownership of what they were intentionally doing. Or maybe they did, and that is their form of insignificant imaginary revenge? Of course by ignoring it all they can absolve themselves. Or so they think.
I've tried hard to understand, and the truth is... I just don't get it. I guess I never will.
But the best part is, in examining myself so intently, in searching beyond myself.
I found my own garden. My place. Untouched, and untouchable by the deeds of the past. A place uniquely my own, where grows still that which is me. The garden God gave us all, each to his or her own. That place where we can make something more, bigger, better, lesser, or whatever needs be. It has always been there, and I think I always visited it when I needed too. It's the reason I survived. And the reason there is so much more, and why I can still share where and as I can, and with whomever needs me, for however small or large a time, place or thing.
It too, is the reason we give voice to our feelings. Given wings they fly away. No one has to hear them, or for that matter understand them. It's only important that WE give. It's taken me awhile to understand why I wanted to say something at all. I don't even care if she knows or not. For one it's to late, for the other to early. Thank God, I don't have to stay stuck in the middle between them. lol.
And what is really important.... is there.
I found my own!
Here is hoping you will too.
