the best of mothering

Mother's Day is tomorrow. I feel a deep sense of contentment, although I very much miss my own mother and lately things have been surreal with Covid and quarantine. This year, our oldest daughter's last year of high school, has been turned upside down. What began as a year with excitement and stress about picking a school, getting accepted to a school, the anticipation of graduation and the pride of all of her hard work -- now looks like pages torn half way out of a book -- the chapter on this time threatening to be completely ripped away.

It's strange how timing works -- life, what we don't know or understand while the bigger plan of our lives unfold, is so curious. This particular chapter in our life couldn't have had a stranger twist and yet while it has all seemed disappointing, I find myself grateful for more time with our daughter. I'm anxious about her leaving, but I don't mean, when I say this, that I selfishly want more time. Instead, I realize we still have things to figure out -- leaving home is a huge deal, and somehow we've been granted a window in our life to be focused, be there for each other, and be present. Typically this chapter would be a blur and college would come too soon and I would be unaware of how much is still left unsaid or remains unknown between us -- mother and daughter.

My mom was amazing not because we had a riot together. We never went to get our nails done or had shopping trips to Chicago -- that was neither of our things we enjoyed or did with each other. What was so amazing about my mother was the fact that if anything was going on in my life, I could talk to her. I literally could tell her anything -- which sometimes made her squeam, but she was there and our relationship allowed me to approach her whenever I was worried, scared, sad . . . whatever.

I know it was hard for my mom when I moved away to San Francisco. For me, it was the most freeing choice I had ever made. I needed a reset. My college years truly sucked in every way possible. When I was a freshman at Michigan State -- my mother got a call from an ER doctor explaining that I had torn my esophagus, had a severe eating disorder and if not treated it could lead to a very tragic end. What did my mother do? Crisis Connie drove to E. Lansing, packed my things up and brought me home, leaving my last semester behind along with a lot of fear and suffering. She had secured a spot at U of M's eating disorder clinic and within a few days I was admitted to their inpatient program. My life was whipped around in a tornado -- all of it a teary blur. As I was starting my treatment in Ann Arbor, a very dear friend of my brother's from college passed away after fighting a battle with cancer -- my mother struggled with not being there for him. It was a tremendously hard time and I don't know how my mom managed all of it alone. After inpatient care, I went to outpatient, living with my cousin who was attending U of M. Insurance barely touched this and I think my mother ended up with a second mortgage.

We were told that it was very rare to fully recover from eating disorders as severe as mine (requiring hospitalization). Sometimes I feel I am my best as a student of experience -- I had to actually live through something to realize how horrible it could be -- thus was my experience in an ED unit. Surrounded by patients who were relapsing for their 3rd, 4th, 12th time (and one passing away), I looked around and realized very quickly that I would do everything in my power to get better, not to end up on this treadmill of constant sadness and heartbreak. Knowing my mother's sacrifice -- which she never brought up to me, was a great motivator.

I went back to college the next fall and it still sucked. I did a semester overseas, England, when my dad got diagnosed with cancer at 46 years old. I came home. My grandfather died the night I returned. The next day was Chicago for my dad's surgery -- he was given 3 months to live. My uncle also died that year. The point of this is not a tale of my own sadness -- but one of how I made it through all of this and I have to say straight out that I would NOT have made it through without my mother. She was there with me every step of the way.

Motherhood moment's, in my mind, are not necessarily the best when you are celebrating the good times. Rather it is the trying times in life that truly test your worth and your strength. My mother got me through so many things in life -- and that is why her loss is so hard. I miss just getting in a car, picking up a diet coke for myself and an iced tea for her, and taking a long drive -- talking for hours. I was so so blessed to have that. I know this completely.

With my own kids -- I love celebrating their achievements, successes and happiness. Those are moments I cherish and wish for with all of my heart. But if I can be there for them when things are not the best, when they feel sad, worried, or simply undone by this crazy life -- that to me is the truest meaning of being a good mother. I pray my kids have an easier road, but life is going to happen regardless of whatever safeguards or plans we put in place. Getting them through moments like this -- and so many that are still unknown -- is what parenting is all about.

I am forever grateful for the mother I had and I hope that I can be there to support my own kids with the same strength and courage she had. Happy Mother's Day!