“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” —Anais Nin
Sometimes I get so comfortable in my misery that I won’t make the effort to get out of it and move on. I wrap myself up in my cozy little cocoon and try to ignore the butterfly that needs to get out and fly. Fortunately my butterfly gets restless and starts to squirm and won’t allow me to hibernate indefinitely. I think that’s a special gift which I’ve done nothing to earn. I watched my mother isolate herself and I know I don’t want to follow her example. Now my mom had many good qualities I would like to emulate. I think I have her smile, one of the things I loved most about her. I always knew that she loved me no matter what. I hope I have conveyed that notion to my own daughters. It is certainly how I feel. Mom was generous to a fault to everyone regardless of social status, race, or any other measure I might think of. But I will take great care not to isolate from society, family and friends the way she did.
I remember when I told my mom that D and I had separated. I had put off telling her because she had a degree of dementia by then and I didn’t know what I would be getting in to. How could I have doubted her and her loyalty to me? When I told her we were separated and why, she went immediately into “mother mode” and vowed that she hoped never to see him again. And if she did she would give him a piece of her mind. She talked and talked (part of the dementia, I think) about how she had liked and trusted him.
Shortly before Mom died in the nursing center, she asked me about D and whether I ever talked with him. I told her I did not. She said, “You know, I always liked him.” She stayed true to herself and her inability to hold a grudge right to the end. Not a bad legacy to leave a daughter. Love you, Mom.