(no subject)

[violachic]

So I've made a lot of comments on here about what a challenge it is for my sister and I with our mother. She is brilliant, but unbalanced sometimes. She doesn't seem to have a particularly nurturing instinct, and as we grew up she was extremely hard on us. She is still extremely hard on us. We've always argued about things, because I want to live my life differently than she does, and than she expects of me. The arguments usually only ceased when I grew tired of them and either acquiesced to her, or pretended that I had.

The last couple years, however, it seems like there have been chinks in her armor. I really believe that moving away from Wheaton has helped a great deal- it was very difficult for her, with such liberal views, to be teaching children in such a conservative place, and it made her even more anxious than ever. So the last year or so I've been pushing my boundaries with her, being very open with the aspects of my life I know she doesn't or wouldn't approve of, and acting very casual about it. Yes, some arguments ensue, but they seem to be very productive arguments. But sometimes she is still herself, and at best it is maddening, and at worst it is hurtful.

She was up here a week ago Friday to attend a doctor's appointment with me (and pheret1, of course), and spent the entire day here. We went out to lunch, spent the afternoon at the house where she cleaned my room and resisted cleaning the kitchen, and had a small dinner before she left to go to back to Indiana. During that day we had some very frank talks and some small arguments, but the best part was that, for the first time in my life, I felt like I'd truly been heard by her. I spoke openly about a lot of things, mostly my own fears and frustration about my illness, but also my own evolutionary process, and my fears and frustrations over that. We talked about how much I hated growing up in Wheaton, and how much it hurt me. And I told her she had to quit being so hard on me, and to take me seriously when I talk. And at least for that day, she did. She really did.

And then, in the middle of last week I got an email from her that threw me off completely.

She wrote a poem for me.

At first, I thought the poem was directed towards Mira, the daughter of the family she has stayed with in Bethlehem for the last two summers. Then, I got farther down and it was very clear she is speaking of me.

It completely undid me. It still does. I haven't written her back, because I don't know what to say except "thank you". It is entitled "Blue Heron", and she also enclosed a photo she took of the blue heron that hangs out in the lake behind her house. I have included the photo at the bottom of this post.

I was searching through my stash of icons for one appropriate to this post. Then I realized that Eeyore is the appropriate icon for this post, since I used to be Eeyore Incarnate, and have grown through that. But Eeyore still speaks to me, in many ways on the same level of the indications my mother is trying to convey to me in her poem.

So here is the poem. There are indentations that should be there on some lines but I couldn't figure out how to format it here. Oh well.



Blue Heron

You, my blue heron
Fly whenever you are aware of a threat
to your individuality,
Fly boldly to another spot in your consciousness
and another place out of our lives.
It is always a wonderful surprise when you take off
Your grand wings so wide and pale blue, lined with black, and
so gracefully angled to catch the wind current;
Your head so proud and no sign of fear
, no matter how startled you might have been.

Your pride, your awareness of threat seem to me so beautiful,
but what a burden these are to you,
so much to carry on across one pond to glide softly into another 'where the fishing seems less threatening and more nourishing.

I have seen you lightly land, like my blue heron,
On the top of a tree. No one expects that, so the event is precious
and Wonderful.

I love your awareness of me, of others, and of self.
Keep it always!
But as you lift off for another pond or the top of a tree
know that the threats were unintended and unplanned,

And that you are safe.

When you were just one, for your birthday, we entertained about twenty
guests to celebrate.
And you toddled out down our little walk by the garage
And lifted your little face to feel the breeze in your dark, turning light, hair.
To another, very personal pond, you flew...

I love your escapes and your awareness;
But know you are ever safe here and there,
And a breeze in your hair will always be able to take you to the top of the nearest tree.

- Valerie K., 2006

Comments

[i-harobed.livejournal.com]

Judging from that poem, it seems that your mother knows and loves you very deeply, even if she does drive you batty sometimes. Families, eh? :-)

[piddyx.livejournal.com]

Wow! It is great that you made a connection. I allways find it interesting when families can overcome the weird dynamics that ususally exist and talk with each other as people.