As Mother’s
day nears this year, I look forward to it with a new sense of the meaning of
the word, “Mother”. I have now begun to consider this word more of a verb than
a noun.
About ten
years ago, I wasn’t sure if I would like to be a mother. Sure, playing and
engaging with the little kids is fun. But after some time they need to go back
to their homes and I would like my peace and quiet back, thank you. My analysis
was that I am missing the ‘M’ gene and maybe that’s how it’s going to be.
Believe me; I had no problems with it.
Somewhere
down the line, living in Chicago with four other roommates; I realized I am
capable of caring and also pampering people who are not blood relations and yet
fight with them like they are family. Maybe, I hadn’t understood myself
completely.
But the last
four years or so have made me look at myself and the M word in a new light. Crises which might have crushed me or at
least intimidated; were dealt easily enough when it comes to the kids.
Motherhood made me face my fears and inhibitions and come shining through most
of the times. Not because I love my kids the most or I am an exceptionally
brave person or even because I considered it my duty. I had no choice; facing
the alternative was not a choice. When such a tiny hapless being, no matter how
old he is; looks at you with the knowledge that you can kiss the boo-boo
away…..you have no choice. The only
other thing that comes to mind is send a quick prayer up, put a smile on your
face and do your best.
Now, I
realize that I am the same woman who was ten years ago but my genetic makeup
has permanently changed to include the caring gene. I find myself mothering my
husband, my parents, my friends, my family and even strangers. Again, not
because I am a very compassionate human being or enjoy being the Good
Samaritan. On the contrary, I long for lazy days and no tasks ahead; good books
to read or even just being alone. Oh, I do have the requisite compassion to
pass off as a warm-blooded being; but not this compulsion that I have to take
care of this person and I CANNOT just leave him to his state.
Guilt might
be the driving force behind this compulsion was the first thought. Coming a
close second was appearances – I cannot appear to be an unloving mother. As
always, ambition and determination jumped in. I have to appear to be the best
mother there is. It didn’t last long – not the ambition, but this false notion
that there can be a best mother. The phrase itself sets you up to fail. I think
the M word is a dangerous habit that
makes you mother people from the first time that somebody depends on you; be it your best friend, boyfriend or even
sibling. The adrenaline rush that you get drives you to seek another source and
before you know it, the addiction just weaves itself into your personality. Before
you can say “Mother Teresa”, you become a “mothering” junkie.
Am I now only
a mother? I don’t think so. I am also a wife (though unkempt most of the time
and also not very much up-to-speed socially) and a daughter. I now seem to have
opinions on every topic anybody can think of and state my expert views with
uninhibited candor; confident that it is for the well-being of all. Am I
turning into MY mother? Of course not! Coz she is…..on second thoughts change a
few superficial details and I am my MOTHER!! Or worse, my mother’s mother (nah,
not my Grandma) – I can outmother her too and my kids aren’t even in their
teens yet. The only way out of this vicious circle that I can see is to grab a
few hardy plants, preferably indoor and perennial, or even get a couple of
goldfish in a bowl and start tending to them. Then I can get my fix of the one M and not at the cost of losing the
other M – my mind.
