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.