Friday, January 21, 2011

The Mother You Choose

written by Stephie Goldfish
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘You choose your mother’?” she asked, speaking about some of the beliefs in reincarnation. Not fully understanding what she meant, I probed a little more, and she went a little further and then said, “You somehow have to come to terms with your relationship with your mother, or history just keeps repeating itself.”
I’ve been doing some soul searching since that session with my therapist and after my few visits back home recently to visit my mother. I also just finished reading what I think is one of the saddest books I’ve ever read, for one more day, by Mitch Albom, in which the main character has one more day with his mother who has been dead for a while.

And I’ve come to some epiphanies about the mother I chose:
The mother I chose didn’t give me up, or any of my siblings. There were many times when she could have put all of us in foster care and ran off with the latest Tom, Dick or Harry who promised her the moon if she’d do so. But the mother I chose stood up for her children and, instead, those men went running.  And I vividly remember a story that the mother I chose often tells us about when she first learned she was pregnant with twins, after having already three young children, and she went on an interview with such high hopes and expectations, and it ended up being a lost dream. They were even going to put her through college. And the mother I chose knew she was pregnant and she chose to have us.
The mother I chose always put food on the table. We never went hungry. Even if it was a simple meal of macaroni and tomatoes, at least it was served with love.
The mother I chose stands up for God and His Kingdom and has always encouraged us to do the same. The mother I chose has written us hundreds of letters or “books” (we call them), and in each hand written letter, she always encourages us to never give up on God and His son and the promises we have been told in His word. Even when the mother I chose has been shunned for nearly four decades, never once has a bad word come out of her mouth about the ones who’ve “shunned” her, always saying “if you can’t say anything good about someone, then don’t say anything at all.”
The mother I chose may not have been perfect, in a human and physical sense, for the mother I chose has her imperfections and is allowed to make mistakes, just like I’m imperfect and have made major mistakes in my life. The mother I chose doesn’t deserve to be cast off and thrown away by anyone, especially not by her daughter.
The mother I chose is a friend indeed to her neighbors. The mother I chose is peaceable and loving, and has the qualities of those who will inherit God’s Kingdom.
The mother I chose can pull me up from the depths of sadness and make an insurmountable day seem worth living.
The mother I chose would never turn her back on you. The mother I chose would climb the highest mountain to get to you and help you in some way she could.
That’s the mother I chose.

This story is an amendment to a sad story I wrote about the mother I chose. Have you ever wished you could take back words? Or wished you'd done some things a little differently in life?

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