FORGIVENESS AND GRATITUDE
10:00:00
My
relationship with my mother was one of a difficult kind. At the time that I was
a child, so until my 12th birthday, she was my best friend and we
spent a lot of time together.
What I did
not realize, was that I was living her life, and not mine. And by the time I
grew up, and started to think differently from what she thought, the troubles
began.
She tried
to match me with lovers she was more fond of than I, or wanted me to be friends
with people because they liked her too and she gained some advantages by that.
She liked to be adored, especially by younger men, and she tried to push me in
circles in which not I but she felt very happy.
I slowly
started to act against this, we disagreed, we disagreed more and more when I
grew older. She tried to charm my boyfriends and when they did not accept it,
she was furious and sent them away. At last it ended up by me walking away from
her and finally choosing to stick to my own choices in my own life. I no longer
wanted to be a part of hers anymore.
I even
emigrated to France to create a very obvious distance between us, feeling very
sorry for my father – he was a lovely and wise man – but he understood and
already had made his choice many years ago to stick to her side for better and
for worse.
The moment
she passed away, I could only feel pity for her. She had made her own life so
difficult and beside the ongoing love and care of my father, she became a
lonely and unsatisfied woman while she could have had a wonderful life.
She was my
mother but I did not feel anything when I heard she was not among us anymore. I
did not feel the loss of a mother, my mother and it made me very sad.
I started
thinking about everything that happened, that led to everything that caused
this situation between mother and daughter. What went wrong and when, could I
have prevented this or would it mean that I would never have been able to be
true to myself. What were my mistakes towards her. And most important: where
did the love go?
Of course I
blamed myself too, I too made mistakes, but she was such a difficult woman.
My father
was a big support. He knew exactly how she was and suffered himself. He had
lost all his friends because they did not meet her standards and he recognized
my frustration.
When my
father passed away, the bond between us was so much stronger. I missed him.
I had
learnt from him. In spite of everything, he always remained a very satisfied
man who made a lot of compromises with my mother but always stayed truthful
towards his true passion (he was a very important man in model-aviation
worldwide).
So I
visited his grave several times. My mother lies there too but it was my father
I visited.
And then,
one day, I realized, I saw the situation
completely wrong. I realized I had learned a lot from my mother too. In having
to act against her, I had gained a lot of self-awareness. I had learned to step
up for myself, to create myself, to think for myself, to be able to make my own
choices, to grow stronger and become the woman I am now, 30 years later. And I
felt so proud about this.
So I went
to their grave and I apologized to her, I forgave her and last but not least: I
thanked her for being my mother.
It made me
a much happier person and I know now that everything and everybody in life has
meaning. Even if we do not see it immediately. Let us be grateful for that.
Warm
regards,
Esmeralda
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