Thursday, May 3, 2012

Peace, Love, and PB&J


My mom was nutty.  Dependent, rageful, and flighty among other things.  She was also warm, genuine, and deeply concerned with my well being.

I remember when I was probably 7 or 8 that I wanted to run away.  There was either some real or imagined slight that I experienced in my family that was truly the straw that broke the camel’s back.  As I considered my response it was clear that I had to leave.  Most likely I would fare a great deal better on my own.

I can’t be sure what was going on in my mom’s head but as I’m now a parent of 3 with an almost 7 year old I suppose I can guess.  She may have been confused and concerned, wondering what had disturbed me to the degree to which I wanted to leave home.  Perhaps she thought it was cute that I was making a bold decision.  In any case I remember her acknowledging my decision with the kind of gravity it deserved.  She looked concerned and supported the fact that, yes, if that was what was decided then I must act.  She helped me pack.  And this is what  I really remember, she made PB&J sandwiches for me, wrapping them in plastic and putting them into my backpack along with my clothes.  I left home and walked the streets of my neighborhood.  I remember feeling a great deal of relief and freedom.  I had cut ties with the daily details that had grounded me and was able to experience the world without the worries of home.  I remember touching pine trees and cones in ways that allowed me to experience the wonder of how these things were made.  It was a tremendous stress relief for me, and, as I consider it today, I wonder how a 7 year old boy came to experience such stress in his daily life.

I’m much older now.  I look back on that youthful mom, the stressed out boy and I think about being young.  I think about my almost 7 year old boy.  How delicate and wonderous he is.  I wonder if he’s currently stressed out and how I might help him before he gets that way.  I’m respectful of the fact that daily stress affects him as much as anyone and that he needs support, respect, and encouragement.  
I give thanks for a flawed mom that never stopped searching for the strength to love me and for my wife who tirelessly loves and supports our 3.

Peace, Love, and PB&J.  

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