My Mother was a Saint, Not all Mothers Are

Ok, so my Mother wasn’t a saint but she WAS a very fun loving and caring and playful best kind of mom there was. Not everyone is as lucky, as I discover in my reading practice as maybe 20 people a week tell me their mom story.  This is for them. Not everyone grew up with a loving mother/child experience. Some tiptoed thru the shadows, some had to raise themselves, protect their siblings from a mother who never anticipated how much loss of freedom motherhood would entail. They had no idea how much their life would change. They had no idea how ill-equiped they would be when it did and no idea how much it would feel like a prison sentence. Bless these mothers for doing what they felt they had to do to get thru what must have been a very difficult life. It made you stronger and taught you independence. Thank the Universe for showing you how powerful you were in overcoming such a mother/child experience with as much presence of mind as you have.

And for those who grew up with abusive mothers, and into whose care she’s fallen in her elder years, know this: Even as her seemingly selfish hateful comments continue even into dementia, she’s simply a troubled person who doesn’t understand the physical and mental changes she’s going thru and she’s afraid of death, if she’s even aware enough to know we’re all dying.

In the end, only kindness matters.