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Sunday

Shoe Personality of the Week: 5/14/12 Mother's Day Edition

Motherhood.

Where deliberation meets trial & error.

Once upon a time I wanted nothing more than to be a mother. Nothing. As I got older & deeper into the challenge of my reality, I had a lot more time to think about the concept of motherhood. I became fearful of the concept for 2 reasons: I’m afraid of passing on certain dysfunctionalities that I felt afflict my family; was intimidated by the possibility that I couldn’t or wouldn’t be as a good a mother to mine as my mother was to hers.

My insecurities morphed—because of all the time provided me by this zero wombspace business—& I became disinterested in motherhood, mired in what felt like the oppression of having to do it as well as my mother. Mind you, this is all with adult understanding of the methods my mother used that the child I was felt imprisoned by at times. Now, it almost feels like a responsibility to have an idea of what to do, inspired by my mother & many other great examples of motherhood, to raise children to counter the numbers who seemingly have no business doing so.

But this isn’t about that.

As I have done more & more in this space, I’m thinking of the tools my mother has laid in my box. One of them, in this moment, isn’t articulation since for some reason it’s so very difficult for me to, annually, pinpoint the gifts my mother has bestowed upon me. They are too many & too great. Yet, living the life of an oft underappreciated teacher, I know the occasional need to hear a “THANK YOU!” or a “GOOD JOB!” from your constituents. The difference between my mother, the mother, & me, the teacher, is that she no longer has to wait for her students to mature into an understanding of what they’ve been given & think to come back as both visual & verbal gratitude. My mother rejoices almost daily in the achievements of her girls. She is smiling proud of our straight backbones & our mostly unbending necks. My mother is proud of our ideas & commitment to serving our community &, by extension, the world.

My mother’s face is evidence of the personal party she has in her heart during our weekly visits; whether it’s laundry day or movie day. We celebrate Life in a dignified manner, taking our palettes on adventures & seasoning everything we try with storytelling & laughter. We have learned from her that we are bigger than our aesthetic but to treat our bodies well all the same. She is living proof of the way harboring emotions & living (once upon a time) without a smile can bring dis-ease into your Life. She is a great example of giving all that you know to give to your children, arming us as best she knew to, & then taking a step back to see what we would build. It seems oddly reversed but she is NOW more the keeper of our dreams than it ever felt as a child; cheering us on with intangible pom poms to take on WHATEVER our hearts desire.

& all the while, from womb to women, my mother has been fly. She’s less concerned with many of the trappings of beauty these days but she always cleans up well. Her youthful outlook combined with her wisdom through experience blends well on her person. As a child, she was often my style icon, especially her shoe collection. So, on this day in honor of mothers, THIS shoe is 1 that I know if she were a younger mother today might make the cut for a mother’s day brunch.
She may not still be tippin, but she still steps in style.
Watch her move.


Mommy, these are for you. See you soon.


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