Just finished a sweet memoir entitled, Not Becoming My Mother, by Ruth Reichl. I enjoyed another one of her previous books, Tender at the Bone. I find so many similarities between her mom and mine; it's comforting to read her work.
I've been pondering the title. In her memoir, Ruth talks about finding an old dusty box filled with scraps of paper, corners of envelopes and memo pads, scrawled with simple sentences. One read, "What do I really want to do?" Another, "I will never put my daughter through something like this." Heartbreaking insights into a woman Ruth never really completely understood. Her mother suffered from Bipolar Disorder, was often misunderstood, and felt like she was held back from pursuing her dreams.
It wasn't until long after her mother died that Ruth learned these things. She was so grateful to her mother, and realized that not becoming her mother was exactly what her mother wished for her.
So I started thinking about my own mom (Marmie). If I happened across an old box full of scrawled notes, what would they say? What would she want to leave me? What things disappointed her? Brought her joy?
I'm guessing:
1) She would express frustration with friendships and difficulty in articulating her feelings. Mom had Bipolar Disorder, too, and she did not process things/interactions the way others did. She was often misunderstood and puzzled by the complexity of relationships.
2) She would say that she found joy in creating things. She was the great innovator... substituting ingredients when she didn't have the right ones (not always a good thing); sewing her own version of a piece of clothing; creating displays for teaching and to use as a librarian at the high school.
3) She would feel sad that she could not live up to her mother's expectations. I love my Grandma, but until the day she died, she never completely understood my mom's illness. She felt it shed a negative light on herself, and she never accepted it. My mom always felt that she fell short. It was heartache for all of us.
4) She would wish that she had a more meaningful "inner life." We must learn to keep ourselves company. When she was alone, she was working on "projects." She did not find solace in books, films or writing. In her last few years of life, this caused considerable loneliness. She had difficult engaging in these solitary activities. Physical problems and chronic pain compounded her sadness and depression.
5) She would feel happy that she was proud of all of her children. None of us ever felt we did not live up to our parents' expectations. I am grateful for mom's constant encouragement and praise. We were happy in our own skin.
6) She would feel blessed to have my dad in her life. He advocated for my mom for 50 years. He knew early on that there were problems, that her mind was not "right", and that there would be dark days ahead. But just before he returned from his mission from Germany, he promised her he would always take care of her if she married him.
And he did.
I would say that I have not become my mother, now that I'm all grown up. But...who I am now is a result of my mom's influence. She would want me to be my own person, and I know that would make her happy.
I miss her.
