The teenager came to brunch. I knew he had agreed to come, but I wasn’t letting myself get my hopes up. Actually, I was alternating between being anxious that he wouldn’t show and anxious that he would and that it would be tense and awful.
But he did come and it wasn’t awful. It was wonderful. We talked and ate and laughed and I felt like I was getting to be his mom again. It’s funny how such small things can be so important when you strip everything else away.
You may have noticed a lack of teenager-related blogs in recent months. The trauma with him this fall/winter sort of pushed me over the edge and I basically just stopped dealing with it. Where he was concerned, I felt useless and unwanted.
After several months of this, I went to my therapist seeking some sort of absolution. I think that I wanted her to give me permission to give up…to accept that this person to whom I’ve given twelve years of my life, was just no longer going to be part of it…I wanted her to confirm my suspicion that I no longer had a role in his life. That I was an optional component.
What I got instead – and what it turned out I actually wanted – was permission to continue to be his mom. I may have been displaced, undermined, shut out and ignored, but nothing can undo the mothering I have done. I am still his mom, no matter who gave birth to him and no matter whose house he sleeps in.
I will be his mom, I told myself, even if I have to go another 10 or 20 years without any reciprocation of my concern and love for him.
But maybe I don’t have to. Because he came to brunch. Because you have to start somewhere. And tiny steps feel so much better than nothing at all.
Happy Mother’s Day to me.
2 comments:
What a great piece of advice!!! Good job. Well done! Yay for a step in the right direction - for both of you!
Thanks - I'm cautiously optimistic.
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