Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I was thinking of my mother, who will soon turn 93. She often comes to mind when I am going through a major life change. My mother has always been the strongest person I know. As a child I found her formidable and at times unapproachable, as an adult she is my treasured friend. Her strength use to scare me, now it gives me courage to face my own life and my fears.

My life is once again in a challenging place. Not horrible, but not what one would call easy. I am separated from my husband, he has moved to Indiana and eventually I will be divorced once again. My son will soon graduate from High School and I will face what I thought would not come empty house.

I visit my mother weekly or as often as I can. She lives in a city apartment by herself. Her disposition and outlook is to be admired and at times envied. For the longest time it had not dawned on me that my mother is getting old. Only recently, did I allow the thought to enter my mind as I watch her struggle getting up from the chair, as I watch her slow, steady and conscientious steps. She smiles at me always with confidence. She is quick to tell me humorous stories and tales from the neighborhood. Stories about friends or people on TV. There is a soft and quiet peacefulness that soaks into me when I am with her.

As I get ready to head home, I kneel in front of her, pulling her body into me and smelling her. She smells like home, like childhood. As I hold her, I know with certainty that she raised me to be strong like her. As she smooths my hair and puts her hands on my face, without words she lets me know that she see's me exactly as I've seen her. Strong and formidable. Without words my mother fills me with her love and her faith in me.