Real talk: Seeing through a mother’s eyes.

I have been thinking a lot, about my mom. Missing her. Thinking of all she did and tried to do for our family. Mom was not perfect. She did not have much. Or, so it seemed, to this judgey you had best have tons of money and prestige world we live in.

Yet, mom loved this world, the best that SHE could. She cooked for it. She cleaned for it. Mom’s love language, like many, many, many black woman, was of service. She learned, had been taught, long ago to feed the masses and keep her mouth shut and heart closed from HER dreams.

Her dreams became allowing us to live with her, off and on, as we pursued, or not, our own too big or two small dreams.

As dusk turned into night, which then turned itself into Mother’s Day, I lay in darkness, thinking of the darkness mom must have felt in having given up HER dreams to raise 13 kids on not a lot of money but plenty of never giving up ness. 13! I couldn’t, still can’t, imagine raising sooooooooooooooooo many heard headed block heads, at once. Good grief.

As I struggle to make my decades long writing dream come true, I….*sigh*….I think of mom’s dreams. I try, horridly so, to look into HER heart to see what dreams lay there. Mom never really shared what her ultimate dream was. I wish I knew. My childhood dream was to buy her a home, hire staff to take care of her every wish and desire and allow her to live out her days chasing whatever whim and fancy that SHE fancied.

That day never arrived. I feel kinship with mom’s perhaps unrealized dreams. Who knows? Maybe her dream was to raise 13 knuckleheads. She did her best to. Her TRY was outstanding, in that regard. For the most part, we all have random times of acting like we have the two sense God gaves us and mom raised us to have…lol….we kid because we love bro/sis’

It’s not easy, trying to view life through the lense of another. Doing so makes us accountable for our part in how our lives have turned out. We can’t blame mom or dad or this or that, for what we have done or failed to do. She did the best she could. She gave all she had. Whether her best was enough, for us, was and is an us problem. Not hers.

Now, I continue to try and look at her life, through HER eyes. Which helps me, to look at mine, through MY eyes. Not, hers. I have let her off the hook, for all I thought she should have been and should have given me. I let ME off the hook, for all I thought I should have been and given me.

I now, right now, make my way through a motherless, iceless, out of the darkness, sharing coffee with mom Mother’s Day.

Ah, mom.

Aha, mom.

Have a wonderous Mother’s Day, beloveds. If you have your mama, squeeze her tight. If not, give yourself a squeeze and get by the best you can, today. Smile, thinking of the laughs you enjoyed. And, if you did not enjoy a good or great relationship, with your mom, perhaps you can make the attempt to look at life through HER eyes. She may surprise you. You may surprise yourself.

Be encouraged.

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU.

loving me some her on this her Mother’s Day,

Cassandra aka Sweetpea

• THE HAND FROM HEAVEN ✋🏾☁️🧻🤣
• COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️‍🩹
• BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
• Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
• Still In Love