#LoveStories celebrates the good people who make a difference. Tell a story about someone who has made your life a little lighter. Better yet, share that story with them.
Moms are the foundation of any society. Today is the day to share your best mom story to celebrate the woman who gave you pieces of herself. Who is a mom is not defined by biology but by love.
Share your story. #sharethelove
The Mom’s Mom
My mom and I had a tumultuous relationship when I was a teenager. She couldn’t figure out who this alien was who had landed in her life. That’s what she called me, an alien. I didn’t like it at all. I thought she was a terrible mother.
She wasn’t terrible, only human. It took me many years to figure that out. She was human. Flawed and beautiful and terrible and loving, all wrapped up in one label: mom.
When I became I mom, I realized how life-altering motherhood really is. I succeeded. I failed. Each failure struck my heart. I wanted to be the best mom ever. I was hard on myself. I cursed myself, chided myself and some days I hated myself. I would often call my mom to tell her the latest, most awful thing I did.
She would tell me that I was a good mother. I had made a mistake and that I could see my mistake and that I was a good and loving person who wanted to learn to be a better mom. She reminded me that the good parent manual didn’t exist and that all we can do is make it up as we go and learn when we fail.
She told me that watching me recover from my errors was a life lesson that would serve my children well into their future. Every time I called, she picked me back up, spoke kind words and gave me the fortitude to continue to grow, learn and to love myself through all of it.
I learned that the best lessons I learned from my mother were not her best moments but those moments when she took care of herself first, learned to love herself as she was, and lived her life on her terms.
When she was struck with Alzheimer’s and I became her caretaker, lifting her into her wheelchair and going for long walks along the beach. She loved to watch the children play.
She has since passed. I miss those moments when she gave me the strength I needed to do better, to be better. I can carry her in my heart now.
Tell Better Stories
Would you like to tell better stories? Or maybe you would like a safe place to share your story?
Join me at an online story workshop or one of my story coaching circles.