7.18.10 – Remembrance

My mother passed away two weeks ago. She was 76, so she lived a long, if not so happy a life. I hadn’t originally planned on blogging about this, but as this year-long project has become far more personal than I thought it would, it seemed to make sense to talk about this. I also received news this morning that my best friend's mother (she and I were both late-life children) had also passed away. It was a reminder that even though I keep thinking I'm okay, I'm really not, and have been restless and in a somewhat distracted state these two weeks. Routine has been my friend and comfort, but can't completely ease things.

My mother and I hadn’t spoken in many years, which I’m sure most people won’t understand. I was under no illusions that we would ever be close again. It would have taken lobotomies for probably both of us for that to have happened. I felt guilty about this rift for a long time, and uncomfortable talking to people about it. In my mid-thirties I finally came to an uneasy peace with it, accepting that there was nothing I could do about the situation without either losing my mind or becoming someone I wasn’t.

The last non-profit job I had was very harrowing for me. It wasn’t just that the executive director created a toxic working environment, there was something else very intense and awful between us, which made my time there excruciatingly painful, yet I couldn’t leave for the longest time. It took my therapist to point out that the working relationship was similar to my relationship with my mother. As their personalities were so pole-to-pole opposite I didn’t see it myself, but it was true. Both my boss and my mother wanted me to be sometone else. They both wanted me to be docile (which I’m not) and accept what they said without challenge (as if), and to adore them despite the dysfunctional situation. In both relationships I had tried my best to please, but it didn’t matter whether I got the grant for work or didn’t or got an A or a D in school, which made me crazy at times and made both situations impossible. My boss hoped he’d eventually beat down my will and create the mindless, soulless, employee he wanted. My mother hoped the demon she thought was inside me that caused me to not behave as she wanted me to or want the things she wanted me to have would eventually be exorcised. I still have my will and the demon.

I’ve been listening over and over again to the beginning and ending of Arpan, a piece Ravi Shankar wrote for George Harrison and that was performed at his memorial concert. The word Arpan means offering, and what I’ve gathered much of the chorus talks of remembering that great soul and saluting it with love and respect. Maybe that’s what I need to do and hear right now.

I do hope my mother is at peace and in a better place. Regardless of everything, she deserves that.



Here's a link to the beginning and ending of Arpan: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xe2tft_arpan_music