We; of course; can’t do that。 Our children need us and will continue to do so; long after the maternal bond starts to give。
To love them just as much can be a challenge。 But this is where we start to learn from our young: lessons of patience; empathy and forbearance。
Being a mother is no longer easy。 But it does bring its own rewards。
Once I found myself in an air emergency。 Before attempting to crash…land; we had to spend an hour circling to burn up excess fuel。
It was a very long hour。 The stranger in the seat next to me held my hand and told me his whole life was passing before him。
My own mind was following a more morbid course; picturing my funeral; pondering whether there would be enough left of me to put in a coffin。
Then another image broke through; the agonising thought my unconscious had been fighting to suppress: the toddler I had left behind; the image of him ing into our bedroom in the morning; getting into his mother’s bed to start the day with a cuddle。
I saw him entering this room day after day; with a bed that remained empty; where he would never again feel his mother’s arms wrapped around his warm little body。
It was then that I realised the terrible encumbrance of parental love。 How it keeps us fettered to this life; held to ransom; so that we can’t even die gracefully; without our hearts being broken。
Since that day; I have only one prayer for myself: that I may live long enough to see my child able to get on without me。
My only child has just started boarding…school。 The house is painfully empty。 It was the boy himself who wanted to go; backed up by his father。
I resisted; with rational arguments and less rational emotions。 In the end I confronted my husband and asked him why he wanted to send our son away to school。 “Because I believe it would do him good;”was his straight answer。
In the sleepless night that followed; I had to admit that he was right。 By daybreak I had accepted that; whatever my own feelings; I had no right to hold up a process that would assist my child in his social and academic development。
And I remembered the lines my mother wrote in a notebook the day I left home to study in a foreign country:
When you were born;
I said to myself;
I shall never again be alone。
Little did I realise
that the infant I cradled in my arms
was given to me on loan;
to care for and prepare
for the day when I would hand her over;
to another life
that I can share
Motherhood 母性(3)
only from a distance。
‘Something only a mother could love。’ The phrase conjures up images of baby orang…utans; teenage hoodlums; repugnant monsters。
It does suggest that a mother’s love is blind; oblivious to chara…cter disorders; to ugliness and failings; when in reality it is the other way round: maternal love is extraordinarily perceptive。
When a mother looks upon her children; she sees not only what they are; but also what they may bee。 In her eyes; potential exceeds limitations。
She is aware of the best in each one even when it’s not apparent。 Her interpretations are kind; generous to a fault; always giving the benefit of the doubt。 It says a lot about human nature that; more often than not; she’s proved right。
Provided she is no stranger to warm and selfless feelings; a mother will love her children for all that is contained within them; or even; at times; in spite of it; remaining constant even in the worst scenarios。
When a child has contrived to destroy anything in it worthy of affection; its mother; with deep regret; will continue to love it; partly for what it was; partly for what it might have been。
At the age of seventy; my mother was badly injured in a motor accident。 I was reached by a message that she was on life support; both her legs were to be amputated。