Ma…

Ma…

Perhaps the most influential concept in my life.

The source of my origin… the force that directs my existence… everything that I am is her… everything that I try not to be is her…

She engulfs me, sometimes to the point of suffocation; and yet without her I would probably scatter into a million pieces and get lost in the ether.

As an infant I depended on her, as a teen I detested her, or so I would have had the world believe, marriage and a baby gave me a new perspective on her, and by the time my own brat hit his adolescence, I had the utmost respect for her. Of course, a large part of my mothering philosophy involved reflecting on what not to do, but still, at the end of my own journey and after reflecting upon my own mistakes, I realized that she had done the best that she knew how to, and could, given her own circumstances, and that she was a victim of her own past.

The intense lines on her face taught me to lay down my own baggage gently. Her bitterness taught me faith, to believe that life would in fact unfold as it was scripted to, and that while riding the rapids it was best to let go of fear and just enjoy the jostles and splashes. And if once in a way you get thrown over, then, hey, ma did teach you to swim.

Until finally, life came full circle.

She depends on me, I guide her, advise her, reprimand her, support her. At the end of each day I reflect upon my mistakes, go down on my knees asking for forgiveness and patience, as I am sure she probably did when she herself was a young mother learning from her own mistakes.

Ma…

The source of my origin… the force that directs my existence… everything that I am is her…

In response to Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt “ma”