Humans have a deep need to feel that they are connected with those they love most, and to try to make sense of how we form the bonds that unite us.
Sometimes when complimented, I want to understand why the other person would say something so nice to me. Usually I restrain myself from asking why I deserve praise (mostly because I don't want to be seen as emotionally needy, or as someone who is "fishing" for more praise), but occasionally I do give in to curiosity, if the giver is someone I feel close to. When I do this, I am often rewarded with greater insights about both myself and the other party. I catch a rare, soul satisfying glance at myself, through the eyes of another, and even if I can't entirely agree with their kind assessment of me, I feel encouraged by the fact that they saw me through charitable eyes. This boosts my morale, and makes me want to live up to the compliment that was offered.
This year I made an unusual request of my sons for Mother's Day. It was a difficult thing for me to ask for - I didn't want to seem insecure - but I mustered up the courage to ask each of them to simply send on a favorite memory of me, via Facebook messenger or email. It didn't need to be a full fledged, "Why I Love My Mom" essay, just a simple memory - a paragraph - describing a time we shared that really mattered to them.
Part of me worried that they would each find this hard to deliver; perhaps even hard enough to keep them from following through. (Yes, I did have to nag at one son, who would have rather just handed me a card and given me a pat on the back.) As a mother of sons, I know it can be hard it can be for the males of our species to express feelings, but as a woman, I know just how important it is to sometimes have sentiments expressed verbally.
What I really wanted this year was the gift of understanding how things I have done, or said, in the past, have made me an important fixture in my sons' lives. I wanted a written message I could look back on when I felt blue; an affirmation that I did a few things right as their mom. I also wanted to prove to myself that it isn't selfish or wrong to be assertive, and to ask for what you really want sometimes, which in this case was the gift of their words, expressing thoughts about me.
It didn't really come as a surprise to me that neither son could come up with one single, definitive moment or occasion that stood out in memory as "the best of my mother". As one son pointed out, being a good parent isn't about creating momentous occasions together, but about showing consistent love and support for your child continually, and giving them a string of small moments - maybe even playful and nonsensical moments - that bond in ways that might seem insignificant at the time, but create an impact on a lifetime once time has been taken to reflect on them. He cited an example of a silly thing we used to do - one that he says helped him understand what things he was passionate about. What was amazing to me, as a parent who knows what he truly loves to do, was making a simple connection that I hadn't made before. I finally saw that something I had done with him routinely had helped him discover what really feeds his soul.
The message from my other son was similar, and just as gratifying. He described his happiest memories of time together as an "amalgamation of blurred memories". Again, there was no momentous event that stood out for him. He simply expressed appreciation for the habit we formed of walking together. He talked about how much he especially remembers walks we took in places we both love; walks where we enjoyed the scenery Mother Nature provided for free. Once again I was deeply touched that a little, commonplace activity, that we still share, has become a series of happy memories for him.
My reflections on the messages both sons shared with me inspired the following poem:
Amalgamation
"The memories are blurred -
there isn't just one."
(The same explanation
from both my grown sons.)
No singular moment
stood out in spotlight -
just many small moments
we somehow did right.
Our long conversations
were pure goofiness;
to nonsense aplenty
I'm forced to confess!
The miles walked together
through forest and sand;
we'd find rock or feather
to carry in hand.
We took them for granted -
all those little things -
but memories planted
still pull at heartstrings.
by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, May 14, 2016
As parents, children, siblings, and friends, we may all fall into a mindset that tells us we need to be constantly "upping the game" as far as creating memories with loved ones is concerned. We snap more pictures to remind everyone concerned, and all of our "followers" on social media, that we are doing amazing, fun, important things. We become so busy memorializing our days that we forget to live in the moment and really enjoy them.
There are few, if any, photos in existence to prove that the best memories I made with my sons really happened. I didn't write about the walks and talks we had in my journal. Instead, we are all left with memory amalgamations of blurred images. We only remember how doing the things we enjoyed together made us feel happy, energized; satisfied in our souls. Would I trade those snippets of many moments for one big, momentous memory? Never!
Age is granting me just enough wisdom to understand that the "little things" add up. A memorable lifetime is perhaps nothing more than a huge ball of incomparably glorious minutia, and love perhaps nothing more than an amalgamation of small things.
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