What memory of my mother do I cherish?
Mother’s Day has the capacity to be a beautiful, bittersweet occasion. For many of us, our mothers are here, living and breathing among us. We may have enjoyed lunch with them today or exchanged a hug or talked on the phone. For others of us, our mothers have passed on. We may have visited their grave today or lit a candle in their memory or felt their absence lodged in our chest.
Either way, our mothers are abundantly alive in us, on a cellular level. Our bodies were their bodies. Our memories are interwoven with their stories. Not all of those memories will be happy. Some may be “brain favorites” for what seems like no good reason. These are memories that pop up often and yet are seemingly inconsequential. I think of the sound of my mother’s slippers on the hardwood floor. A tiny thing, and yet she was coming to wake me. She was the person to welcome me into each new day nearly every day of my life for 18 years. That is hardly inconsequential.
There are so many memories—and it’s prudent to recognize that our memories can be tricky, unreliable beasts. We may have to dig past the first layer of recollections to find a fresh one. What a gift that would be! When you actively engage in remembering your mother through the years, what arises? Where was she? What does she look like? What is she doing? What is the feeling? What story might bring you joy to share this week?