First, she ran to her room to retrieve the Valentine’s Day gift she’d been hiding all week for me. Here it is:
Yes, my “green kid” recycled a Snapple bottle and tied a ribbon around it. She’d stuffed the bottle with Hersey kisses, and a card (a bit wet with juice or water?) that said, “Mommy, I love you.”
Speaking of mothers, that night, I had a Valentine’s Day get-together with an incredible group of women. Over salad, olives, roasted kale, leeks, and wine, we talked and laughed. (While M and her friend got the chance to watch cable downstairs!)
The conversation, however, kept returning to one topic: our mothers.
You’ve probably noticed that I don’t write about my mother on my blog.
My father and I have been through many challenges, and we’ve come out on the other side. Today, he and I have an incredibly loving, communicative, and sweet relationship. And I’m forever grateful to him for being the man in M’s life.
But my relationship with my mother is complex, to put it nicely.
Dealing with old childhood pain is complicated. You can carry it around for your life, heavy and secretive. You can blame your parents forever. No matter, it follows you straight into your adult relationships. (Today, at Singlemommyhood, we write about how your relationships can affect your children’s future relationships.)
I wish I could write about my mother here. I want to open up because so many of you — through your comments — support me, nurture me — and challenge me. But I’m afraid that anything I say here will hurt her. Although she doesn’t know that I have a blog, I’m cautious.
Our relationships with our parents are crucial. Not only do we need their love, but our kids do. Right?
I’d love to hear what your relationships with your parents look like. Do you get along?
Are there any challenges? Care to share?
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