There’s something about a mother’s love that cannot be compared to anything else in the world. I say this not because I have experienced this but because I’ve heard many people say it in my lifetime.
This distance always seemed to exist between myself and my mother. Ever since birth, I have always been closer to my father. I do remember pleasant memories of my childhood but for as far back as I can remember, since I was old enough, my mother and I have always been at logger heads. This I remember started when I was 10 years old and has continued to this day. I do believe that in her own way, she loves me. I’m not sure how or how much, but I gather that a mother’s love for her child is incomparable to any love you could ever experience. Being an only child, I suppose that statement is even moreso.
I believe the distance is as a result of my mother not really getting to know who I am. Right now, if my mother was to buy a gift for me, she would get something that I would never buy for myself in a million years. My father … could go away and shop for my clothes!
This whole relationshing rift between my mother and I came into sharp focus yesterday when she expressed concern for me. I was not sure how to react and so I didn’t. I was somewhat angry for what she said to me and my mother has always been able to do that. However, it lead me to think of our relationship as a whole and wondered if I could have been the reason for the rift all along. I thought long and hard about it and came to a conclusion …. we were both responsible for it. Because of some of the things she did and the reactions she displayed to various situations, it caused me to clam up and keep things to myself. My father and I have the most wonderful relationship that amazes people whenever they see us together. They either think we are a couple or that we are brother and sister. No such thing with my mother.
A lot of occurences in my life has led me to think about this and I feel like she’s reaching out to me right now. I’ve never really told her how I feel because I don’t think she would take it very well. I don’t want her to think that she has failed as a mother because ironically, I don’t think she has failed at all. She did a good job of raising me, but in my eyes, my father contributed most to my development and raising me to the woman I am today. I am still trying to put all of this into perspective and hope that whatever I decide is the best thing to do.