The Water Lily

Wife, friend, daughter, sister…Identities are made up of so many experiences, relationships and histories. Our present-day selves informed by past incarnations. Each layer building on the last, like the ruins of a city unearthed in an archeological dig.

Yet, some changes to our identity are so dramatic that metaphors like this are no longer adequate.

Mom…Becoming one is such a cataclysmic shift that life is divided into a “before" me and an “after" me. A more apt metaphor for birth is an earthquake that changes the shape and look of the landscape.

Everything is still there, but different.

When I write about being a friend, a wife or a daughter now, I filter my thoughts through the lens of being a mom. Or I write about how these different identities inform who I am as a mother.

The daughter, the sister, the neighbor, the parts that exist outside of me as a mom have not gone away. Sometimes, it takes someone else to remind you of the “before” you.

Special Needs Teacher...My years in the classroom definitely have an impact on the kind of mother who I am, but in subtle ways that are less accessible from day to day. You probably don't even know about this identity. I haven’t written about this past on my blog.

But Kristi of Finding Ninee wrote a post called I Don't Know Who I'm Crying For that touched me so deeply that I had to respond.

She wrote about Kelly, a mom who tried to kill herself and her 14-year-old daughter, Issy, who has autism. Kristi’s reaction was filtered through her own experience as a mom to her son, Tucker, who has special needs. I venture to guess that such a brave and honest post could have only been written by a mom, and a mom as amazing as Kristi. I doubt that the "before" Kristi could have written it with such raw candor and vulnerability. Here are some of her words:

…I don’t know who I’m crying for. Am I crying for Kelli? For Issy? For Tucker? For me?

Yes, I guess. But I’m not sure.

I am sad. I am mad. I’m mad at Kelli. I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad and scared and hurt and worried that, in some cases, special needs people are SOMETIMES violent. I think that the fact that special needs can include violence is the hardest thing of all for me.

I keep erasing my words. I have to ask myself what bothers me so much about this.

What I’ve come up with is that I don’t want you to think that Tucker is like Issy.

I don’t want Tucker to be like Issy...

Kristi goes on to wonder how violence fits in our world. I am grateful that she has agreed to publish my response to her query. I'm grateful for Kristi's many identities -- my friend, mom to Tucker, writer, passionate crusader for children with special needs, compassionate carer of us all.

I'm honored to have my post on her blog. It's called The Water Lily, if you would care to take a look.

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Photo Source: Flickr, Donna Sutton

Sweet

I'm loathe to add my thoughts on Valentine's Day to the world according to bloggy moms, because a) there's no lack for posts on the subject and b) I really don't have much nice to say about the holiday.

But I promise to make my complaints short, as well as to deliver a happy ending. Indeed, I even give you permission to skip right to the end, if you want (as if you needed my permission anyway)…

George and I are 0 for 4 for gifts in recent history. Our anniversary, his birthday, Christmas and my birthday all came and went without a gift. While this state of affairs certainly isn't reflective of how much we love each other, the "too busy" excuse is getting rather old. But, alas, I doubt February 14th will prove any different. 

It isn't George's fault. I don't like Valentine's Day. The holiday makes me passive aggressive. Anytime someone gives me a command to be nice to another person, I want to do the exact opposite. And since George and I aren't into S&M, there's really no way for me to act out this impulse in a clean kind of way. 

Plus, there were the many years that I boycotted the holiday due to, well, due to being perpetually single and not having a choice in the matter. During these times, my in-a-perfectly-perfect marriage mother would send flowers to me. While nice, the subtext of this gesture was extreme pity for my situation. Each fragrant bloom seemed to scream out to me, "Oh, poor, lonely, pathetic you! Someday, you'll find a man!" I don't like a holiday that discriminates against people on such an arbitrary thing as relationship status.

But my aversion to the holiday doesn't mean I don't believe in the power of love and the beauty of relationships. So, without further ado…here's the happy ending (Wait, you didn't really skip to the end, did you? Go back! Read about ME, dammit!…oh, sorry…) 

My bloggy mom friend Kristi from Finding Ninee shared a Valentine's Day project that I think is awesome.

Cool drawing by Kristi Campbell

You can send a Valentine's Day card via snail mail or the internet to a couple with special needs, who is celebrating their four-month wedding anniversary! (collective "awww", everyone!) As a former special educator, I love hearing stories that break through stereotypes about people with disabilities.  Go to her blog, Finding Ninee, to find out more about the project. 

It's sweet. Kristi's sweet. Valentine's Day's sweet, right? So this ends my sweet addition to Valentine's Day. 

Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day to my one and only, dear and lovely husband, George!


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