Courtesy of Chris at Notes from the Trenches.
She, like me, has mother-daughter issues. She, like me, is trying to work past them, for the most part, has, quite well. She had her mom over for their family Christmas this year, and the result was this eloquent post, rich with perfect metaphors about what forgiveness is....particularly this estrogen rich version between women and their mothers.
The whole post is a must read, but for those of you who like to read the end of a book first, here's a taste (a taste of the things I related the most to!):
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She, like me, has mother-daughter issues. She, like me, is trying to work past them, for the most part, has, quite well. She had her mom over for their family Christmas this year, and the result was this eloquent post, rich with perfect metaphors about what forgiveness is....particularly this estrogen rich version between women and their mothers.
The whole post is a must read, but for those of you who like to read the end of a book first, here's a taste (a taste of the things I related the most to!):
I bristled at the comparison to the two of them. I am not like you, I wanted to shout. The old angry me would have. The old angry me was was only concerned with being heard (loudly), being right (even if I wasn’t), and well, being angry....
...Anger was my little black dress, perfect for any occassion. Dress it up, dress it down, accessorize it with sarcasm or insults thinly veiled by humor.....
But somehow I discovered this Christmas that the old angry me no longer fits. Much like that well loved little black dress that is no longer flattering and maybe a bit uncomfortable that I keep hanging in the closet. I try it on every now and then before deciding, ultimately, to wear something else....
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That last metaphor is true to my life. I do try that little, now ill-fitting, black dress of my youth on from time to time. I do reminisce about the times I wore it, and how it wasn't all bad; it served its purpose at one time. Occasionally, when my emotional composition changes, I think that it suddenly fits like a glove again - but mostly, I'm finding, it's about as relevant to my life as the letterman's jacket I'm still hanging on to. Its purpose is no longer for active wearing...now it is just a tailored memento of my past and how I got to be where I am today....I don't want to forget the journey, so in the closet it remains. Unworn.
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We had a great visit with my Mom and the gang at her house last weekend. My only wish is that we ALL could have been together, and for maybe more time.
In the meantime, here's a picture that embodies the estrogen-rich-new-black type of Forgiveness that is totally en vogue this Season:
Left to Right:
Little Sister, Mom, LMNOB, Red-Headed Step Child (moi) - a picture of mothers and daughters.
You are a very good writer!
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