I did it. I did something big. I haven't done something that scares me in awhile. Something really big. By choice anyhow. Monumental things have happened to me but this one was of my own doing. I took a leap, not of faith, but of boldness and bravery. I have talked about pursuing my doctorate for over five years. I milled it over with my mom, confided in my husband and shared my aspirations with those close to me. Encouraging words and sentiments of support flowed from everyone's mouths. I don't know what happened but I found a program, applied, took the GRE, passed, gained acceptance to University of Louisiana for the doctoral program in Instruction and Curriculum and almost now done with my first semester (8 week session).
The first person I wanted to call when I received my passing scores and that entrance to the program letter (it's still on my fridge) was my mom. The reason this is even feasible in my mind is because of her endless confidence in me. Like maybe too much confidence. The kind where she could have convinced me I could fly. She was always so tickled with the idea her daughter might someday become some highly esteemed doctor. She would giggle and say "Doctor Parkes!! Hee...hee..." I wish I could hear her now. She was my biggest fan... she's the person I want to hear from when I've been brave or bold or in this case both. I need her words, those words that could coat me with reassurance
Just last week, I felt the same yearning for her encouraging words after a major career letdown. I wanted to hear her say the things that only moms say. You know the kind of thing that used to make you roll your eyes as at teenager? You might have complained about a zit and your mom would reassure you are still the prettiest girl in school. Or mess up on something and your mom would tell you it's just a hiccup and you'll do great things someday. I told Allison about how what a hard day it was and expressed my longing to talk to my mom. I told her I would give anything to hear my mom say, "They don't know what they're missing!" or "you're meant for bigger better things." Allison said all of those kinds of things to me in her own way and it filled some of the void. I also had a huge outpour of support and encouragement from my tribe and my family but somehow nothing compares to a mama's words.
The main thing I want to get across to people, especially those mothers out there is this: while you are feeling like you are not enough. Not crafty enough. Not cool enough. Not organized enough. Not involved enough. Your child saves a space for you that is a VIP parking spot in their heart that says MOM. No one else can fill that. So stop comparing yourself to other moms because guess what? You were chosen to be the mother of your children. By God. This is a calling and a match made by something bigger than you. You will always be enough in their eyes. And someday when you're gone, they might just miss what you thought you lacked as a mother. My mom said she wasn't good with words a million times over. What do I miss most? The way she encouraged me, built me up and comforted me in her mom version of pep talks. Nothing quite does the job as hearing it from my biggest fan. The one who brought me into this world. How could anyone compete!?
I am coming into the week of the 3rd anniversary of her passing. Grief is a bitch. I thought I had this one under control. A few weeks ago, I was feeling sort of proud of myself that I wasn't dreading September 26th. Somehow, a few events transpired that caught me off guard. Missing her. Needing her. Deep to the core. With all that I am. One day, I'm feeling like a badass, juggling graduate classes and mom life and the other I am wandering around like a lost child. I actually find myself asking "mom, where are you?" It's these times that I am looking for her, not physically but spiritually. I need that feeling to wash over me. That unconditional love she showered me with for 36 years. I was her first. Her Babycakes and I am blessed to be her daughter, still.
I have to search for the strength she instilled in me and replay her words to get that mental tape playing. Those mom cheers, those heartfelt sentiments that carried me though the toughest times. The one time I needed my mom the most was to help me get through losing my mom. That's the only thing she didn't prepare me for in life. I hope she sees my efforts and blesses me with a sign soon. You see, the last few days of her life, my mom asked all of us what she could send our way when she was gone to let us know she was there. My request was splattered paint. I always loved seeing that, especially on the highway. Maybe she doesn’t think in need it just yet. See, right now I think I'm struggling and she probably she thinks I'm crushing it. Not doing everything perfectly, but doing it to the best of my ability in my own mom way. Hopefully, I come across a brightly colored paint spill on the sidewalk somewhere soon or maybe if you do consider yourself fortunate it could be her or someone else trying to lift your spirits...
DISCLAIMER: I have had readers send me messages that my blog encouraged them to reconnect with their moms or become a better mother to their own kids. I also have heard that some people that read this replace the word 'mom' in my stories with their 'person.' Sharing in someone's experience, especially of this magnitude, can be powerful. This is why we read books and watch movies to fully understand what we've experienced or possibly feel something we may never experience. I don't ever aim to make anyone feel guilty for their lack of relationship with their mother. I do know that if you've lost your person, mother or other, you could feel comforted from our shared feelings of sadness and longing. I also aim to lift up mothers because I know mine never felt perfect but man, oh man, is she held on the highest pedestal in my eyes.
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🥰🥰🥰 Silvia and Audrey