Mothers Be Good to Your Daughters

I don't know how to love my mother.

The above statement is difficult for me to come to terms with, especially since I realize that it has a lot to do with why I have difficulty connecting to my own daughter on various levels.

"Mothers be good to your daughters, Daughters will love like you do."

A simple verse from a not so simple song.

I can't explain the relationship, or lack thereof, that I have with my mother. I don't "get" her. She and I have never seen much of anything similarly. We never had that relationship many girls get to have with there mothers. We didn't talk about boys. She didn't introduce me to makeup. She came from an era in which girls didn't participate in sports, so although I think she enjoyed that I was athletic, I don't think she understood that part of me either.

My mom had me in 1974. She was 34 years, but to turn 35 later in the year. In 1974, that was a big deal. I really think so many of the problems my mother and I have are because of shift in the women's movement during this time. My mother was reared to be a wife and mother, but something changed when I was born. It almost seemed that who my mother was was what every women in America was fighting. With her being born in 1939 and a teenager in the 1950s and having lived a sheltered and protected life by her parents, what could my mother possibly have know about raising a teenage daughter in the early 1990s?

When I think about all that had changed from 1959 when she was 20 to 1994 when I was 20, I begin to understand why we can't communicate. How can a mother be good to a daughter she can't connect to, she doesn't understand, in a society that she can't connect to and in a society she doesn't understand?

What makes me the saddest? I know I will lose my mother without ever really knowing her. I don't think she really knows herself. Life made so many things possible for women after the 70s and she just got left out.

I don't know how to love my mother.

I watch her struggle with depression and saddness. Where does she fit in? Where does she belong? I wish that woman who was funny and happy and beautiful would realize that she still exists. She doesn't have to get mad or sad. I have tried to talk to her, but something else has taken a hold of her. It won't let go. She won't let it go.

What happens if I lose my mother and I never really knew her?

Every time I fly home to Fresno I wonder and cry that I missed another opportunity to know her.

I don't know how.

Will my daughter wonder the same thing about me? Daughters will love like you do...

Where do I belong?

Being born in Toledo, Ohio and then moving to the quaint suburb bedroom community of Swanton, Ohio, I always felt that there was something more in life that was awaiting me...a chance albeit to explore who I was supposed to be where I was supposed to be.
I graduated from Swanton High School, went to the University of Toledo (because of affordability, not choice) got married for reasons still inexplicable at the tender age of 20, had a child (the best part of the whole scenario) and divorced by the age of 26. Something in my life was missing though. I was a single mother at the age of 26 with a degree to teach high school English, but I didn't know who I was, or where I was supposed to be.
For undisclosed reasons for the moment, I found myself headed to the Central Valley of California. Even though I was leaving the biggest part of my life behind, my father, I knew I would never be physically leaving him. He understood why I thought I had to go. A lot of people from "home" thought I was crazy. "It won't work." "You'll be back soon." "You're making a terrible mistake." "How can you be so selfish?" I will admit, at the time, it was selfish. I was looking to make myself happy. My justification was if I was happy then my daughter would be happy.
My first two years in the Fresno area were not what I expected them to be. The reason I has originally moved to Fresno was not working. At the end of those two years, it felt as though my life was worse in Fresno than from where I had come. I was failing here, too. There were plenty of times that I thought, "It doesn't matter where I am. I am going to fail anywhere I go." I started to think that was part of my make up. That I could go wherever, whenever and the outcome would be the same. I thought I was ready to go again. If I was going to fail, I might as well fail someplace new. At least the scenery would be different.
But, I stayed. And, I am still here.
I met a friend that I told in October of 2004 was the real reason I was brought to Fresno. I needed her and in many ways, and I hope I am not wrong in saying this, I believe she needed me. Stig brought me into her world and welcomed me with open arms. Her world is nice. Her world is her family and her family is her friends.
Stig, Adam, Kendall, Ed, Heather, Fish, Katie, Sara, Woody, Jay, Tim, Joe'l who is the cypress which stands by my side...and then to add each person connected to these wonderful people are the beginnings of the family that my daughter and I deserve. Good people. Good hearts.
Do I miss people back "home"? Yes, for they are still family, too, and they, too are good people with good hearts. But...
Where do I belong?
I think I have found the answer to that question.

If Santa and Jesus Got into a Fight

Christmas is supposed to be the traditionally recognized holiday for the birth of Jesus.

But, if you ask Santa, he may have something different to say.

Many happy returns...

So my first post dealt with my daughter being one of thirty out of four hundred students at her school to make the principal's honor list for having a 4.0.

Tonight I received another gift I was not expecting...

My daughter made the "Under 9" All-Star soccer team. Now this was a particularly beautiful smile I received from my daughter as she had just gotten her teeth cleaned at the dentist only minutes prior to the news.

Hard work as a parent is providing me as many happy returns as it is my daughter.

She is beginning now to reap the benefits of her own intellect and hard athletic work. She has confidence and faith in her abilities, as others are affirming what she wasn't really sure of.

She patted me on the back. I hugged her.

Happy Holidays!

Too Little Too Late

So it has been a while since my last posting. I have been incredibly busy getting ready for finals, both at my high school and for the work I am doing at Fresno Pacific. While I am getting caught up, it occurred to me that I hadn't had a chance to deal with any feelings or questions that I had about the execution of Stanley "Tookie" Williams. This is from where the title to my posting comes. I knew too little too late.

In years passed, I have often found myself in favor of the death penalty, even though it goes against tradition liberal beliefs. After attempting to do "research" (a lot of reading of different perspectives), I am saddened to to say that I believe we got this one wrong.

My heart aches for a nation hell bent on instilling morality into its citizens through a conservative, Christian perspective. Although not Christian myself, I recognize when it is necessary to turn the other cheek and when it is necessary to take the eye.

I am sorry that the governor of California was unable to detect the difference. I am sorry this society cannot see passed itself and what it has created. I am sorry I was made aware of too little too late.

From denigrating aspects of his trial, to inconclusive physical evidence, to no African-Americans being permitted on his jury, to four Nobel peace prize nominations, to 150,000 REPORTED lives saved through his influence...We have made a grave error.

I now question...If I believe we have gotten this one wrong...How many others have there been and are there. How many men or women are sitting on death row because they were convicted in an era that tolerated racial slurs and denigrating references as a legal part of a trial. How many men and women have seen their civil rights stripped before their eyes while a racist, hand-selected jury nodded in agreement.

Our society is racist. Our society is classist. Our society will be what condemns itself. Our society wants to call itself Christian, while giving true Christians a bad name. Ohhh....The irony.