A Week of Caretaking, Pt. 1-- Mother's Day

This has been an interesting week for me in North Carolina that I'd like to share with you all. I usually keep them a little too busy, I now recognize, and am in the process of cutting back. Perhaps this post is to replace what silence I have had toward this blog, and perhaps the lack of continuity I've had in trying to create skype dates.

And so there's really, way too much to express. I live a life filled with experiences that I want to share with you all, though every time I get down to talking about it, I don't want to overwhelm. Perhaps I'll split this up into three posts based on the core quest that I am pursuing: how to take care of people throughout your own pursuits. I'll address today, Chief Care-taking day of them all, I guess, and work backward through my week, unpacking it as I go... I think three over the next week should be a nice compromise between the two.

So, hey, today is mother's day, a day when we celebrate one of our chief care-takers. It's a day filled with early brunches, extended movies, kids jumping headlong onto a sleeping mother's mattress with stuffed animals or a homemade card to share, single mothers taking each other out for lunch (that may or may not be happening with my mom right now). Sons and daughters flock to florists, gift shops, or their own creativity to give back to their mothers in swoops.

I did a little of the same, maybe even too much. I took advantage of my current proximity to home, and showered my mom with a breakfast (sprouted whole wheat grain pancakes with bananas and chocolate chips, an omelette of tomato, spinach, onions and mozzarella, and a kiwi-strawberry-blueberry fruit salad). Next up: flowers tonight and a showing of Wicked this Thursday at the Durham Performing Arts Center.

A bit egregious, but while I'm here, why not overdo it a little? ;-)

But it's interesting that I do, because for me, though, this is a day that has typically been very confusing to me for a number of reasons. My mother was my daily chief care-taker throughout 12 years of my life, simply because of divorce circumstances. Living in a fractured family confused me whenever mother or father's day rolled around. I was not part of a normal family, but the rest of the world seemed to be that way. It maybe even put a little more pressure on me to fulfill because I didn't have the other adult helping me out in celebrating the other. For some reason, though, the act of taking care of me and my brother Rehan became what bound us all together despite the civil disputes and low blows. Love and caring became how each mother and father's day had some semblance of normalcy (I've since figured out being normal is not as cracked up as it seems). My life has been devoted to creating positive relationships with each of them so as to make each life in their own respect peaceful, to perhaps comfort all of us that it was for the best in the end.

But that is perhaps a story for another time.

Mother's day: I should celebrate today in wild fashion to help acknowledge my mother's sacrifice toward raising me and my brother single handedly, though I've always still had qualms with the concept of just a one Mother's/Father's day; parents to me deserve at least one small celebration per day. Why should we decide to set aside one day for an intentional mother/father's day? Why can't we honor our mother on a daily basis? Why isn't this an accepted practice?

I will say, this notion comes from my own upbringing as a Jew. The 9th commandment in our statutes says, more or less, to honor your father and mother. The implication is that it does not stop after a holiday, or after you transition home from school. Perhaps it is my Jewishness that keeps me an inquisitor, an anthropologist.

Hand it to Judaism to lay down the guilt complex, and they'll go above and beyond the call.

Though, I now recognize how difficult it is to devote time every day to my mother even though I live with her. We keep to our own agendas-- mine with my volunteer social work/whole foods wage laborer/oral history enthusiast/Judaism/creativity/dialogue work, her with her dog training and care-taking/global health research/home-owner stress/mom of the fam role/modern family addiction. Whenever our calendars coincide, we break out a glass of wine to toast the occasion. As she says, habitually, "us Blooms are people of action," but try as we might, our actions are not always able to focus in on each other. With time, I don't think this busyness will go away, no matter how much I wish it to.

And so I took time this morning to slice the tomatoes, to skin the kiwis, to press her coffee. I'm a giver by nature, and so this comes naturally, and I felt good while I did it, even though my head was also tuned into the resources I had to compile for the facilitation training I'm giving this Tuesday. She told me this was a "bang "of a breakfast. I saw it, instead, as being active in taking care. Maybe next year I'll be able to give the small things every day, but for today, in the unsteadiness of a wanderer's life, I decided to focus deeply on caring for the woman who literally built me into who I am. This will be my celebration this year, and I will set an intention till next Mother's Day to do the small things each day as well.

Perhaps this is also what Mother's Day is beginning to mean to me: take a day to celebrate, to give out, in an effort to replenish for a year of snipetted love.

Regardless, I hope you all had a meaningful day of taking care of your mothers, in whatever context or whatever capacity you were able.

And, perhaps more broadly, here's to the love that we received and continue to receive unconditionally, from the lovers that span our lives. I'm thankful for all of you who give care to me whenever it is possible, and I can't wait to indulge in another year of care-taking and taking care :-)

*It would still be my honor, to be your new stepfather...*