Mother's Day

This is a bittersweet kind of day. On one hand, it is a day when I can be so very grateful for the opportunity to experience being a mother this lifetime to two sons who occupy opposite ends of a spectrum. On the other, I desperately miss my own mother who left the physical world in 2006.

I am no longer clear what being a mother means. Sometimes it feels like it shifts daily. When my boys were young it actually seemed very straight forward. They depended on me for food, shelter, entertainment, drives,hugs and lots of 'no's'. As they grew older, that role became increasingly blurred. Motherhood at times feels like the weather - constantly shifting, changing - sometimes stormy, and others beautiful and calm.

Motherhood has a great deal of irony. I recently asked my very independent 27 year old son, whose career at sea takes him out of the country most of the year, what his needs were of me. He said it was simple: 'just be there for me'. It feels so much easier to physically 'do things' for them. 'Being there', as weird as it seems, feels so much more complex. It entails loving unconditionally no matter what happens. Standing by them when they are truly struggling in life, and NOT going in to rescue them. Providing advice only when it is asked for and in ways that are unique to each child. Watching as they make difficult choices and sometimes choosing paths you had stumbled down that you wished you hadn't.

My 17 year old son has been teaching me another facet of motherhood. He has the uncanny ability to ignite the old patterns in me that are worn, torn, tired, and needing to change. He is very clear what type of parenting he needs, and I wish I had cameras on when he gets started because he has become such an authority on the subject. He knows exactly what I should say in high conflict engagements, or what I should do in highly dysfunctional situations, or how calm I should be when it is the 6th time I have tried to wake him up on a school day and he gets very angry. I must say it is at times challenging to live with such a parental expert.

My last thought on this Mother's Day is about my own Mum. I cannot believe how much grief I brought my own parents, and how much stress I created. My antics are legendary so it only makes sense that I would be 'blessed' with the same experience as a parent. What is so very clear though is the feeling of absolute love and acceptance my Mum gave no matter what I did. She may have had an initial flareup - but very soon after there would be the open arms of 'I'm here for you'. In reflection, she was an expert in 'being there'. Happy Mother's Day Mummy. Your loving wisdom lives on....

A Birthday Wish

Last night I reflected on what was going on exactly 17 years ago when I had excitedly awaited the birth of my baby. He was to be induced the next day - and I sat and wondered, with a strange mixture of fear and joy what he would be like. I had been told that there were considerable odds that he was either going to have down syndrome or dwarfism, based on testing that had occurred during my pregnancy. That night though, I had the power of positive thought and could not wait to meet my little one, no matter what 'condition' he had. The next day a physically beautiful 'normal' boy was born.

Last night I could feel that excitement and power of positive thinking, and was desperately trying to reconnect to those feelings. Earlier in the evening my son had threatened me in a text and had suggested I bring police home when I returned because he could not guarantee my safety. The reason? I had given his father his cell phone number so his Dad could find out what he wanted for his birthday.

My son has not wanted to speak with his father for 2 years and has avoided him like the plague - angry because his father did not enter into his life until he was 9 years old. They had about 6 years of a fluctuating but tolerable relationship and then poof - my son claimed his father was trying too little too late.

I am writing this blog because I want my son to get help. He has a long history of 'divergent behaviour'. At this point there are 3 routes - 1) Do nothing - hoping he 'hits bottom safely' and turns himself around; 2) He is diagnosed and medicated; or 3) He is arrested and incarcerated so he can 'get it'. Great choices aren't they?

Any of us who have seen the Ashley Smith story - a teen who went into youth detention for 30 days and never came out, would not want to pursue in the incarceration route: http://www.oci-bec.gc.ca/rpt/oth-aut/oth-aut20080620-eng.aspx. The 'let him hit bottom' and drug therapy are not resonating at all with me right now.

We desperately need new alternatives that are innovative and affordable. What are they? For my son this would be a place that would combine a rather odd assortment of activities such as, working with animals and plants AND a high level of intellectual debate. This place would have highly skilled staff who would not use 'talk therapy' but who had that magical ability to invisibly delve into and bring lights into the deep and dark inner caves. Gently and skillfully they could help these teens release the stories of abuse and injustice that have been collecting in their DNA for many generations.

The final ingredient would be the deep listening with these young people to why they are so angry and what changes they are signaling that we need to make. From there, these young leaders could be assisted in creatively reflecting back what and why we need to change in our society - and with a glimmer of how we can make these changes. This glimmer is a much needed flicker of hope that others could see and connect to. Through these glimmers, teens such as my son would light an inner fire that would lead them to their next steps in life - with the ability to feel again without the daily weed, arrests, expulsions and rage that is escalating out of control. When are WE going to 'get it'?

This is the birthday wish a have for my son.

Alice's Rabbit Hole

Well here I am - back down in Alice's Rabbit Hole. This time I knew I was going to tumble down it as I took a stand for my son to remove his habit paraphernalia from our home. I took this stand for me as I had been the subject of verbal abuse the day before and was just fed up. Well - the definition of insanity is to doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So why did I do something that I knew would create a violent outrage? Why did I do it when I was still quite fragile? This is the question that has me back down the rabbit hole again. I have been the subject of physical and emotional abuse in the past and have done a good deal of work to shift the victim imprint. I had thought I was much healthier until my son reignited the old patterns.

The struggle I am having is that my son is using weed daily to deal with his issues. I don't want to use the word 'addicted' because that label is so disempowering and not helpful for 16 year olds. I have had my own issues with addiction, being sober now for 21 years. My son knows he has a problem in that he acknowledges that he has a habit - however weed itself isn't addictive according to him and his friends. He says he needs the weed to stay in school which he says he wants to do to get his life back on track. That is why I haven't 'poked the bear' since September as I wanted him to get a routine and rhythm under his belt so he could start moving away from the drugs - which he said he would do. The issue is the drug related behaviour, disrespect and the violence. Only I can make the decision.

So here are my choices - I tell him his choices have led him to no longer be able to live at home if he insists on smoking up in his room and continue with the violent and disrespectful behaviour. He will tell me that he will then quit school and start selling weed again as he will have to do that to survive. I have to then tell him that this is his choice.

The other option is I let him stay, which will mean he will stay in school, which could lead him to making some new choices as I know he really doesn't like his life right now. This decision also means that I end up having to put up with a situation I find very difficult as well as having a human minefield in my home again. I am having to make this choice at a time when I feel broken and living a nightmare. There has to be another way out of the Rabbit Hole.

A Gentle Anniversary

Today is the third anniversary of our Mum's death. I looked up what gifts you give on a third anniversary - it is leather. I suppose that makes sense because we have had to get tougher skin over the last three years. Since our Mum left, she has been joined by two uncles - Nels and Bernie, an aunt - Margaret, grandmothers to 3 of her grandchildren - Clara and Vera, and all too early her son-in-law Greg. It is getting crowded at the after-life dinner table.

I had thought that today would be a difficult one but it has been one of gentle reflection. I decided to look at the past three years of what has happened with Mum's loving watching over.

Two grandchildren have graduated high school, one finding a vocation and the other university; two grandchildren have started high school, one challenging the educational and legal systems with everything he has, the other so busy with Air Cadets, Band and hockey he needs a roster of four family members as drivers.

Mum has watched the strengthening of careers of two other grandchildren - one as a very popular journalist, and another as a First Officer most recently navigating the world's largest cruise ship, who is also engaged to be married. Her eldest grandson has continued his deep soul searching and has now heard the calling of being a paramedic. In her own children she has seen her eldest lose her husband, and her youngest find real happiness in a common-law relationship.

Mum has watched her husband shift his care-giving from her to being a vital connector of our family - always on the go - an enthusiastic fan at hockey games, marches and band performances, visiting his out-of-town children every season and being there for all his children while they work through life's challenges - often with surprising compassionate advice. At 88 he has taken up painting and has become very good very quickly.

And so - as we acknowledge Mum's transition from being a physical presence to being a spiritual one three years ago, I know she is smiling. When I checked in with her today, I immediately got the feeling of what it was like at Christmas time when my sister and I were 6 or 7 and we were waiting for our crazy relatives to arrive. It was a time of great anticipation, home artwork all over the walls celebrating the season, and lots of music. The air was full of joy of being together as well as hope for that special gift. I could feel her telling me that life is so much more meaningful when we live our lives from that place. Our Mum is so wise - as our darling brother said on the day of her death - she has taught us well. There isn't a day go by when I don't talk to her and some days I crave her hand to hold, but I know she lives on - in us, around us, through us - here's to you Dear Octopus.

Climate Change in the Home

So much has been written about global warming and climate change and what it is doing to our planet that I thought I would use this metaphor to describe what life is like in my home.

I have a 15 year old who is, like many of his generation, challenging many of the 'natural laws' of the home that I grew up with. He has access to information and entertainment 24/7 and this has certainly contributed to his feeling of self empowerment. Gone are the days of "Can I go out?". It is now - "I'm going out and I don't really care what you think." Going to school is a tug of war that leaves me battle warn, and the lifestyle choices are very worrisome due the frequency and the belief that this is just normal.

This is not my first time out with the parenting of a teenager. I also have a 25 year old and I have to say that it is very different now. I have engulfed myself in research. I know that these kids are showing up with some fascinating quirks of nature - high intelligence with matching learning disabilities, need to be in a collective and with almost a group mind, while all the time touting their beliefs in independence. There is also a pecular anger seeping under their apparent indifference to life.

All these quirks have shown up in ways that are contributing to the erosion of my family life. Now I grew up in the time of Leave It to Beaver, but I have to admit that this extreme slide down the other end of the scale is very daunting. Why climate change as a metaphor - well it seems to me that many of the influences that have created this situation in my home come from a combination of outside influences I have little control over, as well as behaviours and approaches we were totally oblivious to as to the future impact as we were raising these children. I feel overwhelmed at times as everywhere I turn there is another parent talking about the growing epidemic of no respect, entitled mindset, and total defiance of rules and any form of 'authority'.

Is this just a phase this generation is going through, or is it something, like climate change, that is much more significant in this time and place? Can this metaphor of climate change help us find new approaches to dealing with this painful experience as a parent?Views are welcome