On Motherhood

As I washed my hairbrush this morning I thought of my Granny Edwina and missed having her here in the frail flesh. Something so tender about being embodied however imperfectly for just a short time. I think of her rituals a lot lately. Her long morning baths. I always wondered about that. The inordinate amount of time she and my mom seemed to spend in bed. I get it now. Getting up is hard to do. It’s the major triumph of every day. 

My gorgeous mama & hers

 

My mom is really struggling with fibromyalgia. And sending me memes about inter-generational trauma. I think she feels guilty. But really we all do the best we can within our means. I really believe that. We just try our best. I know I did. I gave my kids everything I had. And now it’s really up to them. My teenager's self-loathing is devastating to behold, but I know where he got it from. Poor kid. 

Here's a love letter to you dearest ~

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother’s Day.

Being a mother is such a tremendous karmic contract isn’t it?

 

We enter starry eyed (if we’re lucky) and end up beaten to a pulp.

I feel such compassion for us and all the mothers, from Eve till the end of time.

 

I want you to know that I know that you love me and have tried your best.

And I’m grateful for so much you have given me.

 

In no particular order: 

 

Your dark sense of humour

Your love of cats

Theatre

Dancing in the lounge & kitchen & anywhere really

Chinese bangles

Chocolate (particularly your chocolate brownies – best ever)

Mom’s taxi for all those years and ALLLLLLL those extra curriculars – I’m glad I got to do all those things in my heyday and it wouldn’t have been possible without you and dad.

Thank you for finding Yoga. It saved our lives!

 

Books! Thank you for always reading.

I love that we have had adventures together – India was so wonderful.

I love that we have laughed till we cried. Many many times!

I’m glad that my kids got to know you and make up stories and plays with you.

I have learned more from you than anyone else. 

And I love learning more than anything else.

 

I’m sorry that you struggle in your body. I’m sorry about the pain – in all its forms.

I’m sorry when I have made things harder for you, though I did try to make things easier and saw myself as your caretaker for a long time. 

 

In my every breath I feel you. My every movement and thought.

It’s a hell of a thing being embodied and I’m trying to be more grateful and humble in the face of the mystery. 

 

I hope that we can relinquish our hold on attachments and aversions.

I hope that we love one another so that we feel free.

 

That’s a lot of “I” statement.

I don’t really believe in a Me, this Charisse construct.

But I’m trying to shift the profound weariness to deep surrender.

 

Here I am. In this moment. Sootica snoring softly beside me. Rain falling gently outside.

Warm, safe, peaceful. 

 

Sometimes the suffering gives us a moment’s grace and we can just be.

Thank you for this life mom. I’ve wanted to end it for most of it, but that’s nobody’s fault and I hope that we can all be free in the midst of it all.

Maybe we can do something special together soon? I miss you and while we’re embodied it is nice to hold hands. I remember holding granny’s hand and knowing it was the last time and holding Rokela’s hand and not knowing. I don’t remember holding J’s hand. But I do often think of stroking his silky hair when he was a tortured boy. 

 

https://www.instagram.com/p/CdJRTzRKNld/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

I remember granny’s long baths. Her silver hairbrush set. Decorative. The sound of the fountain in her courtyard. The shaggy carpets and Persian cats. So many memories embedded in us. Bring a dull ache to the pit of my stomach. The mind hangs on. So does the body.

 

Time to lighten up. The heaviness has got me again. I am wont to feel weighed down...and often.

 

Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for the movies and shows. Thank you for believing in me and supporting me. Thank you for keeping on. You are a fun one and it’s been quite a ride. Life can feel unbearably long and also fleeting. Just this breath, moving softly and tenderly. 

 

That’s all there is. We are here for a bit, we don’t know how long, then we’re not…or we don’t know. More and more I think that not nearly as much changes in death as we thought/hoped. I think we need to use our time wisely, to sort our shit out ;)

 

Love you mom

Good luck with this whole business of being here

Moment to moment...

 

Only love,

Charisse

 

 

Nobody should be forced to be a mom. 

That's all I'm going to say about what's happening in the USA with this whole Roe vs Wade mess. 

I wanted to be a mother with my whole heart and it's been the hardest thing ever. 

 

I can recommend these movies, no matter your stance. They say almost nothing and everything at once, like only the best art can. 

How grateful I am for the artists of this world. They help us develop our understanding and empathy. No one can truly know what it is to live someone else's life. And absolutely nobody has the right to dictate how someone else should live.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020) directed by Eliza Hittman

 

 

And here's an incredible South African film Tess (2016) directed by Meg Rickards and adapted from my friend Tracey Farren's incredible book Whiplash. 

Thank you to my friends who help sustain me through the trials and tribulations of raising children. Particularly Tracey who is a couple of steps ahead and flying the flag for Single Moms who are truly superheroes. Thank you for the honesty and the humour. 

Hand-in-hand we shall vokvoort ;)  

Trace & I spoiling ourselves at Lourensford for Worker's Day cos nobody works harder than Moms (also Daddy's Deals FTW)

In my support group for mothers of children with mental health challenges this week, we shared our burdens and realised once again that none of us are alone in this. We are all trying our damndest and need to give ourselves the utmost care. Join us. 

Let's reach out and not struggle alone. We're all here together on purpose. 

I wrote this blogpost during our London Writer's Salon (freeeeeee!) Writers' Hour this morning - what a gift! They meet four times daily and give you the perfect excuse to put pen to paper and rat-a-tat-tat your heart onto the page. It helps....

https://www.instagram.com/goflow42/

Heartfelt thanks to Cathy Park Kelly for creating a cosy in person Writer's Circle here in our talented lil Valley and inviting us to join the LWS.

Her courageous memoir Boiling a Frog Slowly is out now.