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The Tearful Jerks
by Soma Guru October 23, 2005
Every time she would be extra worried for us for getting home late or forgetting to call her up in case we were going out directly from school/college….then we had it ……my reaction was more of the stereotyped ones - why do you worry so much, nothing would happen; and at length she would shoot her favorite dialogue - you would understand only when you become a mother. Very true. History has to repeat itself…or to say I am waiting for the day when I will be snubbed by my daughter…..And that I suppose, would be a proper cycle and evolution of a mother-daughter relationship. Those initial years of blind aping takes a different turn as our angel gets footage to her teens… about thirteen, dear Mom suddenly becomes the most ignorant, benighted, out-of-touch creature on the planet. The primary form of interaction for the next five years or so will be a single word, "Mooooooooooooommmmmmm!" And then, somewhere between our thirties, if one is lucky, she becomes the best friend again. My memories are so fresh about my teen and happening years, with me being a rebel, that it spontaneously brings a smile on my face. Hats off to my darling mother….and it would be understood if I say perfect mothers are those who let their child do and let be, as they think desirable. A time when girls never dared to open their hearts in front of their mothers I would shock rest by saying I will ask mom just about anything. I remember when I was a teenager I was a rebel. We argued and we went through a lot of stress, but she and I are very much alike, I realize now. Such rifts actually started evolving a strange but a real closeness that continues to this day. To let me voice what I wanted to, made me all that I am today so different from others. I was let to go to the college of my choice and take up subjects that I wanted to (my peers kept cribbing - they were made to do those that they wouldn’t have done otherwise.)
Accepting ones daughter as an adult would be letting the
daughter be her own woman, and trying not to live through
the daughters is the biggest challenge, but, can be taken up
in good spirits. I was taught to be my self and on lots of
instances and occasions I have felt that I am so lucky.
During her visits to my place after my marriage, her
appreciation and praises about small little things and
letting me run the family and house the way I wanted to,
again gave me reasons to admire her all the more…..unlike
other friends of mine who never stopped complaining as to
how sometimes the interference gets a bit more like a bone
in the neck. All I can proudly say that our relationship was
so full and open. This is what is called getting diverted from the main topic, I was talking about my daughter and got swayed away to my mother but the truth is - the two of them are inseparable topics. It is now that I understand why my mother was so vulnerable regarding me. Being a mother is reducing oneself to the primitive animal instincts where she protects her cubs fierce fully.
It is now that I understand how valuable my bibs and finger
prints were to her. The feelings and experiences are so real
and touching that it hurts and it really activates those
tear glands of ours. I don’t think it is insane if I crave
for my baby’s sweet smell, her first shot (where the doctor
didn’t know who was pricked, because I had more tears
rolling down my cheeks), the pain I experienced the day she
was weaned totally (a strange sad feeling overpowered me),
to wait for her to come from the three hours school….. are
all the lovely experiences of motherhood. The professional
derailment doesn’t actually seem to bother but what takes
the upper hand is to watch her grow. Nothing can describe
the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike,
the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a
dog or cat for the first time. And more is to come with each
passing month.
The Week of October 23, 2005 |
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