the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
mama's day ~ may 13, 2001 - 2:22 p.m. did you call your mama today? I did. I love my mom. I was even disappointed that I got the machine, even though conversations with my mom lately always seem to wind themselves around to so-what-are-you-doing-with-your-life? of course, I'm doing lots of things with my life, but since these are mainly non-money-making and non-security producing things, they don't really count in my mom's world. and so much of it I can't even begin to share with her, I don't even know how to translate my experiences into some kind of form she could recognize and absorb. my mom and I have something of a tacit agreement. she knows that there's things that she simply does not want to know about my life. and I know that she does not want to know them. so there's places we just don't go. marijuana. sex with multiple partners. eating at the soup kitchen. and no, I certainly haven't told her I pose for naked pictures. well, you wanted me to get a job... I tried, a few times, to break down the barriers between us. because I love my mom, and I wanted her to know me, really know me, the way the people closest to me do. I was in counseling at the time, walking through hell and high water, with all kinds of abuse issues and repressed memories. the hardest work I have ever done in my life. there were a couple of years in there where I rarely wanted to be touched or have sex. so hard to imagine now. clare stayed with me through it all, held my hand while I walked through that storm even though it was hell for her too. I will always be grateful to her for that. I had nightmares all the time, woke up shaking in a cold sweat before dawn with flashbacks and unknown terrors. there were times I thought I'd never find the other side of that darkness. I had an amazing counselor, winona, who I saw every week for two and a half years. together we unearthed my demons and faced them, over and over. winona saw me more raw and exposed than anyone. I trusted her with my soul. and it was in the middle of all this that I reached out to my mother. I wrote her this long e-mail, it took me hours, telling her that I was doing all this hard work and that I'd really love to share it with her, to be closer to her. I told her it was the hardest work I'd ever done, and that it would mean so much to me to have her support. I also told her that if she didn't want to know, or if she was going to tell me to stop dwelling on the past (a favorite theme of my mom's, who has unresolved issues sticking out all over)-- then we could skip it. I left the choice up to her. she never even answered. I didn't talk to my mom for a long time after that. I was angry and heartbroken, and I felt like she'd failed me yet again, failed to be there for me when I needed her to be. my sister told me that mom had told her that she thought counseling was bad for me. I don't remember when it was that I began to make peace with my mother, to come to terms. I stopped being angry for everything she's never been able to give me, and started to appreciate all she has. I think part of it I owe to Zoe, a mystic sister I encountered last year, a woman who showed me the truth of my soul. how did you get to be so amazing? zoe asked me. were you loved unconditionally when you were growing up? yes and no... I told her, and she grabbed me by the shoulders, dark eyes inches from mine and said, forcefully-- it's NOT a yes-and-no proposition-- unconditional love-- YES or NO?! and that's when I realized. I have always known that my parents love me. through it all. even in my worst nightmares. even when I've felt all alone in the world. I have always known that they loved me. and I love them for that. of course, it's easier to be generous now that I'm on the other side of nightmare land. sure, old feelings come up once in a while, but I've healed so much, let go of so much. winona got a new job last year and had to stop seeing me. we both cried when she told me, but it felt like the right time. I don't feel like I live under the shadows of the past anymore. I am open and loving and vibrantly alive and joyously sexual and most of the time I can hardly remember what it was like to feel so broken and afraid and fucked up. of course I have bad times. but there's so much to the good. and now I tend to think that my mother did the best she could with what she had. and I have no complaints about the woman I've become, so I can't feel too bad about the things along the path that brought me here. my strength of will is a gift from my mother. my independence. my self assurance. last spring I added my mother's maiden name into my own, so now I carry four names: Kelly Gael Murphy McNally. it's a strong name, a warrior's name. and no matter how strenuously my mother may disapprove of my lifestyle and the choices I make in this world, she always lets me know that she believes in me, and that she loves me no matter what. at holidays, she gives me beautiful presents, things carefully chosen for me. she knows my colors, my tastes, she can imagine what kinds of things I might need. in some really important ways, my mother knows who I am and takes joy in the fact that I am so completely my own woman. I've let go of the rest. she still drives me up the wall from time to time, as mothers will, but I love her tremendously. and life's too short to hold a grudge.
(((rings))) |