(Don't worry, I think that's exciting.)
Last year my mother died. In the wake of this event and the inevitable rippled, I decided to take the year off. In many more-traditional cultures, life stops for a while when someone close to you dies. Or is born. Or leaves. In ours, we forge on. In my writing, which is a tenuous activity at best, I couldn't do that.
And anyway, here in my muttering space, I had nothing much to say.
It was inevitable my relationship with my mother was going to be left unresolved, mine alone to sift through as opposed to being a two-way thing. My mother's relationship with herself was so intense, so all consuming, that I never really existed. I loved her, and she tried in her brokenness. Her death is a weird thing to mourn.
My mother's biggest concern was to never be "exposed". Ironically, as a mother who made that her life goal -- to the exclusion of good parenting skills, solid mental health habits, or anything reasonable -- she was bound to have at least one kid who would have a deep-seeded need to expose her, to explore the experiences in written format, if only to save myself.
Anyway, I can't promise to be back in any way regular or dependable; I'm saving that for my kids. But here I am, for this moment of time, offering you these three words to describe my (excruciating) writing process:
Read.
Agonize.
Distill.
This weekend's Trifecta challenge is to write 3 words of my own choosing to describe my writing process. You can read more about the inspiration for this challenge here. I hope you didn't mind the bonus, but just in case, I wrote those three words in bold. I'm going to the canoe races, and to a yummy salmon barbeque. I'll see you when I get back.
unresolved conflict - unresolved love - hard to live and deal with. I'm sorry for your loss. Glad you feel you can be back. Spend time with your kids and let them see YOU as you would have liked to have seen your mother.
ReplyDeletegood choice of writing words.
Thank you Barbara. You always know what to say. And you're right. Parenting my children in predictable, dependable ways without too much drama is also a form of soothing my frayed edges.
DeleteI'm looking forward to doing more again ... we'll see if I can carve away the time!
So good to see you back in our linkz. Barbara has good words up there. Those complicated relationships don't seem to get suddenly easier after death, do they?
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this with us.
Thank you. I was hoping you'd notice ...
DeleteThe thing about the after-death part with a complicated relationship is that the abusive crap keeps tapping me on the shoulder, and I am just left wondering why. It's weird and also rather relieving to be free of it.
The three word thing was good. Later I looked at the post immediately previous to this one and laughed. While I haven't stopped writing (so I didn't die) the last challenge I did wasn't all that different from this one. Whoops!
Welcome back. I lost my cousin and I, too, stopped writing. I can only imagine how deeply complicated and difficult when the loss is your mother. Appreciate your list.
ReplyDeleteThank you LaTonya, for your comment. I'm sorry you lost your cousin. There's camaradarie in hearing that you know what I mean. Complicated is really the best word that sums up my feelings about my mother's death.
DeleteThe list was sort of interesting to find.
Hugs.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I've missed you. I'm so glad to see you here. I'll be by to catch up (I think the last I saw on yours were the red shoes from your friend ...) shortly.
Delete"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: What! You too? I thought I was the only one."
ReplyDeleteC.S. Lewis
This is beautiful. Thankful for C.S. Lewis tonight.
DeleteAnd yes. Me too.
My heart's with you, and like the others, I'm glad to see you back.
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks! <3 I am going to have to do some hefty lifting in the reading department, methinks.
DeleteGood to see you back in this moment. I hope you are able to be strong and available for your children. In some strange way, it might give a little peace to issues with your own mom that won't be resolved.
ReplyDeleteThank you Janna. I went to therapy instead of university and have practiced them like an art form for the past 20 years, so I like to think that my mental health skills have some solidity. Even though my mom never became easier I could manage things with relative insight and some cushioning. It doesn't mean it lessened my hurt and confusion ...
DeleteI took a parenting class before I had my third kid, which gave me a good basis for this life. And I have come to believe that, if I do it well and stay in the moments as best I can, that a whole lot of healing goes on as I parent.
I'm grateful for your thoughtful words.
listen brew suffer
ReplyDeleteright? You saw right through me. Oh wait, is this you? In solidarity.
DeleteVery sorry for your loss, Karen, but very happy to see you here!
ReplyDeleteLove the 'distill' part!
Thank you Kymm. I'll say I'm glad to be "back" when I produce more than one piece of work, eh?
DeleteI recently toured a brewery in the Yukon. The whiskey barrels stacked at the back of the building may or may not have inspired that. I'll let you know when I get a hold of a bottle of the amber nectar next winter.
I'm so so so sorry about your mum. One of my best friends lost her mum last week. She cant handle the question 'how are you?' so I can imagine why writing seemed impossible.
ReplyDeleteI hope you are okay xxxx
Thanks, Sian, for your kind words. I am okay. I have a future post in mind that will better explain how I feel about everything ... it is probably a very different experience than the "average" when one's mom dies. But I'm pretty sure there exist others who's experiences might be more similar.
DeleteAnyway, my thoughts and heart go out to your friend. I highly recommend that she takes time to howl, regardless of the dynamics of their relationship.
*hugs*
DeleteThank you Sian! <3
Delete