Mama, don’t you worry about me

Mom and Me

I don’t usually share stories about my family in-depth online in a public forum, unless it’s on my private Twitter or Instagram, but this week has given me great perspective about the true value of family. While the circumstances for being home at this time are unfortunate since my mother has been very ill and in the hospital this week, I have come to understand how blessed I am in this life with a mother as selfless and big-hearted as mine.

Growing up, my mother was my best friend in so many ways. She was a school yard monitor always keeping an eye on me, kept me company during recess when I had no one to play with, and watched TV with me during the afternoons. I have one vivid memory of her coloring with me in the family room of our Calgary home. Additionally, she was so active in the parent community at school and volunteered as a computer teacher in the early 90s at my elementary school. I always had such a pride knowing mama was always around to watch over me. After all, she was an exciting person to be around. So bright and funny, traveled the globe, met royalty, celebrities, etc.

This week as I sped home from work with news my mother had fallen suddenly ill and was admitted to the hospital, I realized the rest of the world, my problems with other people, it all just doesn’t matter at the end of it. People who have genuinely and intentionally hurt me can go off being complete turdball-bullies and assholes, but what matters most is the life I’m living graciously and humbly without the unseen. Because when the levies break and if you have a true heart, you know what matters most. It’s unfortunate how for some people, family matters are not always cause for concern. Family for some can be both a blessing and an illusion.

I have been brokenhearted for months, actually years, and the one person who has the power to hear it in my voice, see it in my eyes and feel it in my touch has always been my mother. She’s a great mother that way. Very attentive and caring, and no matter how much I put on a face or hide it, she, attached to my soul, will always feel it. While she only knows the half truth of why my heart aches and why I’ve chosen to live unfettered from relationships, she always knows there’s more to the story. She will never prod, but she will make it a point to listen and offer advice vaguely. Though she worries about me, she need not because every ounce of strength I’ve ever gained came from her.

My mother is so big-hearted and sweet. She literally has the softest voice too, like it just butters you up. When people say I’m so kind or nice, it’s because I get it from her. She instilled values of love through hugs, kisses and made sure I was never terrible at comforting people. She also showed me what it meant to be kind and vulnerable by granting others love that might not believe they deserve it. That said, she is also someone who knows what she deserves and instills that trait in my sister and I (as does my father, who is equally a beautiful and selfless person). While very religious and a follower of grace, my mother understands what it means to forgive someone for doing you wrong, but believes it doesn’t ever have to come at the expense of your happiness or indecision. God allows things to happen in life for a reason, but every choice we make is one our heart desires. It’s part of the grand scheme of things and while we have free will, we can choose to live our life the way we want to even though it will be what it will be.

I can crib and cry about my life today, but I know what it’s going to be tomorrow. And I can be fought on it, others can impose indifference, but again, it will be what it will be. No judgment in life is ever poor to the soul because no choice is ever truly a mistake. It is what it needs to be. Good can be wrapped around wrong, and wrong can be wrapped around good. And God knows about all of these things we do every day because they are rooted far in our hearts. It’s all part of life’s choices. We can make them, but que sera sera, friends.

Spending time in the hospital with my mother this week, dozing off by her side, it felt incredibly natural to watch her sleep. Not to mention, for once just take care of her the same way she took care of me as a child and a young woman who was not reckless to make a life-long decision upon a moment of bliss. (Selfish beings with zero disregard for others do exist, but forgive them, Lord, for they do not know any other way.) Being home with her now, by her side, it matters the most. As it goes, trust the timing in your life. Patience and faith make all things beautiful.

And I learned this all from my mama.

{Title inspired by Carrie Underwood’s “Mama’s Song.”}
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