The Perfect Mother

I have written a lot over the last decade, but don't recall ever exploring 'mom' like I have below.
I share this in honor of and gratitude for ALL mothers. 


She scares me.
As I huddle in the corner on the floor of the bathroom, knees to chin, arms wrapped around legs, heart pounding wildly, she continues to grab chaotically at the door handle from the other side and shake it, alternately banging on the door, while, simultaneously speaking and screaming in a range that would have impressed even the most seasoned vocal coach. 
What she would have done exactly if she would have caught me I’m not sure. 
I had been chased around the house several times before by this madwoman, who a few moments before had been my mother, wielding a wooden spoon, the same disharmonious and cantankerous melodies riding in the air.
It was much more terrifying being chased than actually being caught by her.  In her rage she never managed to strike that well, which caused me to laugh hysterically, sometimes until tears came.  Although I’m not sure if the laughter and tears came from the absurdity of the situation, or out of nervousness, or shock, or from the pain when she did manage to land on target, or, maybe it was just terror. 
Probably, it was a combination of many things. 

As I got to my teen years I rebelled like crazy, got into alcohol and drugs and began to put on more weight every year.  It didn’t really occur to me that anything unusual had occurred in my childhood. I knew it got a bit out of hand at times, but it wasn’t until I went to have lunch with mom when I was several months pregnant with my daughter that I got a sense of just how bad it might have actually been. 

We were in the house I grew up in, preparing the food in the kitchen, when all of the sudden she went running out of the room.  Literally running.  I followed her path down the hallway, and then down a flight of stairs to the bathroom where I found her crying uncontrollably.  “Mom!” I said, “What happened, what’s wrong?!” 
“I am.... so.... sorry,” she said between sobs. “I treated you.... so horrible.”
“Oh, mom, it wasn’t that bad.  I mean, you know, everyone gets angry. It’s okay.” 
“I did awful things...to you.  Awful Things. I... am... so sorry.”
I consoled her the best I could, not really knowing what she was talking about since I didn’t have a lot of memories from childhood (which I found out later wasn’t so normal either).  I remembered those incidents of being chased, and the sudden angry outbursts, things flying across the room, thrown in anger, but they didn’t seem to warrant the overwhelming guilt that as of today she hasn’t been able to completely shake, even though my daughter is now twenty. 
After my daughter was born, stories began to slip from my grandmother’s lips. After at few glasses of champagne at holiday gatherings, the two of us would be smoking cigarettes outside, the presence of a toddler with some of my features triggering memories, in spite of efforts to block them.
“My God,” she said more than once, “It would get so bad, so horrible, that I would have to leave. I couldn’t stand to watch the things she would do to you.”
I never knew how to respond to that, and didn’t care for any more than the few details that came my way.  I wanted to move on. I wanted peace. I wanted closure.
I wanted to be a different kind of mother.

Some years back, when my daughter was about ten, a letter came in the mail from my mom.  She apologized again in this note, and then thanked me for being the kind of mother she wasn’t able to be.  She thanked me for breaking the cycle of cruelty, violence and abuse.
I am so grateful for her courage in her own transformation and healing.



During a healing session about four years ago, a time when I was experiencing a betrayal in another area of my life which left me feeling unprotected and exposed, I was guided by the practitioner to ask Archangel Michael to assist.  The response that came immediately into my mind was surprising,

“I would be doing you a disservice if I interfered.  I cannot take your karma from you, because within your karma is your dharma.  I would never take from you an opportunity of such tremendous potential and significance to your soul and to the world.”

This message resonated so deeply within, not just in regards to that present time challenge, but in regards to all impossibly challenging situations that had come my way.   There had always come with them a sense of a deeper meaning and opportunity.

Today mom is a wonderful support and friend. I am so grateful for her presence in my life. It has been a beautiful and humbling experience to be a mother myself of such a fiery, intelligent and willful child, which opened the door early on for great compassion for my mother.  I could see in moments of stress and overwhelm how easy it could be to give in to those inherited patterns, planted so deeply in the psyche that they felt like the ‘natural’ response.  I am grateful to mom for playing a role in my life which created ‘such tremendous potential’ for me today.  I don’t think she believes me, or understands me, when I tell her she was the mother that I needed her to be.  That I could not do what I do today, or be here in the same way, without that experience. 

These revelations of the perfection of the plan, that we really do choose our parents, that everything is of love and serves love, didn’t come easy, and they are not superficial spiritual bypasses.  It took tremendous patience and willingness, and inner work, to transform and get to the other side, and understand as an alchemist does, that every element present is used to create gold.  The appreciation and gratitude for the awareness that is here today has no price.  It is nothing short of spiritual gold. She truly was, and is, the perfect mother.


This song Angel’s Footprints was written about a decade ago,
in gratitude for all of our “angels of transformation”....

This is not the first time
we’ve met on this earth plane,

Mother, Brother, Sister, Lover
our souls remains the same

Wearing a mask of darkness
Wearing a mask of hate

Here’s the mask of the sinner
I’ll wear this one of the saint

At first I thought I’d been
trampled upon
But now that I know the Truth
I can see that I was wrong....

You were the angel, that helped me find my way,
Back to my power, back to my strength,
Back to my greatness, back to my faith,
You were the angel....

I bow to you today



In celebration of mother's day, consider the ways your mother was perfect for you, not necessarily in the hallmark greeting card fashion, (although that of COURSE counts ;), but in potentially developing the spiritual qualities of your soul, however that may be playing out.  If there are any judgements of the way mom “should have been” or “should be”, you may want to journal and work to own any projections, and also consider the possibility that you really did choose the experiencing of mothering that you had.  It could be no other way.
Life does not make mistakes.

Therefore, You do not make any mistakes.
All is Perfect.

In Gratitude
for Divine Mother,
for Earth Mother,
and for all beings who have chosen
to take on the awesome charge and
role of ‘mother’ on the earth plane,

Goddess Bless Us All!

Happy Mother’s Day,

Jaia