Mothering

Years ago on The Oprah Winfrey Show, Oprah had a guest who made a profound difference in my life and made me take a look at some of the things I was doing or should be doing in my life.  The guest was Sarah Ban Breathnach and she has written a couple of very excellent books that I wound up purchasing. My first purchased book is called “Simple Abundance – A Daybook of Comfort and Joy”.  Many of her written passages have been highlighted or the margins have notes I’ve scribbled which touched my heart or made me think.  She takes each day of the year and expounds on a mini-theme.  I recently re-discovered this book, as it had been packed away during the move, as well as a second one that she had written entitled “Excavating Your Authentic Self.”    

Both books cause me to ponder and mentally take stock of my life and also remember things I may have forgotten while growing up.  I’ve decided that I will share some of those meaningful writings and thoughts from time to time.  Maybe they will bring a deeper insight to those who know and love me, of who I am and why I am the way I am. 

For example, Sarah writes…”Many women I know share a seldom expressed yearning to be comforted.  To be mothered.  This voracious need is deep, palpable – and often unrequited.  Instead, we are the ones who usually provide comfort, caught between the pressing needs of our children, our elder parents our husbands, our friends, even our colleagues. 

Though we are grown, we never outgrown the need for someone special to hold us close, stroke our hair, tuck us into bed and reassure us that tomorrow all will be well”. 

I’ve had many conversations with both of my parents when  I needed and wanted counseling and advice and reassurance that I was doing the best I could.  But there is something entirely different when we want to be mothered. 

Several things came to mind when I read that
section of Sarah’s writings.  One thing was the remembrance of crawling into bed with my mom when she would be getting the last of her night’s sleep completed.  I don’t have memories of doing this when I was small, I probably did, but my memories of this come when I was older.  I would just crawl into the covers and snuggle my way up against her chest so that she would place her arm around me and pull me tight.  She always smelled so nice, her skin was always so soft and she would always tell me she loved me and I never, ever doubted that she loved me.  And then I would just lie there in total bliss.  (I think back on that experience and remember how it carried over with Corey.  That all began when as a nursing mother, it was one of the most pleasurable times each day.  It was Corey and me time as he would nurse making his own special little sounds and I could hold him close.  As he grew older, he loved climbing into bed with me and snuggling and hugging.  Even sitting in church on our pew, he would burrow next to me so he could snuggle with me.  I wouldn’t trade those memories at all.  That's Corey and me taking a nap at Aunt Nancy's house during a visit). 

Even when I got older, moved away, got married, had my own child, I still loved those moments when they were presented.  Oh, how nice it would be to have that opportunity again.  How many countless children have had the opportunity to snuggle with their grandmother or great-grandmother or take a nap upon her chest?  More than we will ever be able to recall or count, I’m quite sure.   This picture shows David, Helen, Corey, Sarah and Jennifer in the front.  Everybody wanted to see the new baby.  Corey was about 5 days old in this picture.

How wonderful it was for me to see my mom snuggling my grandchild. 

Wouldn’t it be nice to know that even when we become mothers ourselves, that when we need some comforting, some consoling, some mothering for ourselves, that we would be able to crawl into and snuggle up with our moms in bed in that sanctuary provided by loving arms?  I can still have frequent conversations, receive long hugs, but there was always something to that prolonged calming reassurance of love and knowing that no matter what, everything was going to be all right. 

Several years ago, while a young mother myself,  I did something so terribly wrong that I knew embarrassed and hurt my parents.  I decided the best and most reasonable thing I should do was to distance myself from my parents.  I felt I was not worthy of their love even though they reassured me they did love me.  I avoided my parents at all costs until one day, my mother physically stood in my way so that I could not run from her.  I stood there, unable to even look my her in the eye.  As she began to talk to me telling me how much she loved me, no matter what I ever did, I felt that love and the tears began to flow from both of us.  I felt such tangible love as she held me. 

Some 15 years later,  when Les left our home and our marriage for the last and final time, I remember the absolute heartbreak I felt…the total unbelief of the finality of my marriage, the shock of knowing that something that had been 23 years of my life was over.  I remember going to my parent’s home the following day and lying on the bed with my mother and sobbing as though my heart would break.  And, it did.  It did for a very long time, but I always had an understanding circle of love.  I was “mothered” on many occasions in many ways and that is the biggest reason that I survived and moved on.  My mothering was also done by Aunt Rachel who had gone through a very similar situation many, many years ago when it was almost a taboo, unspoken event – and she had survived and I would too.  I was mothered by my own son who cared for me in so many ways and protected me and held me as I wept on his broad shoulders.  There was also my dad who provided my priesthood blessings, sound advice and counseling and was there to listen with a logical mind.

Almost 10 years later, the need to be mothered, to be comforted, the need to be cared for happened once again when Joe had his heart attack and the ensuring months of medical emergencies.  How grateful I am for those new friends who understood my needs, who disregarded my expressed lack of asking for help and went ahead and cared for me – who mothered me, how cried with me, who cared for me.  How wonderful it was when the kids came from Utah and took over many of the day-to-day stresses and made my life so much easier during their stay. 

Yes, we can want and need daily love from others, but I’ve learned from my own life experiences that there is definitely a difference between that and that voracious deep need to be mothered. And, isn’t it nice to know that when we need it, we have a place whereby we can receive it?