Last night I was with my friend Meg, [it was her birthday yesterday, and we baked and stuffed our faces with red velvet cupcakes] when mentioned how when she was younger, her mother applied Vaseline to her skin. It made me recall those teeny rituals that you share with your mother as a young child, and I started to miss some of the ones I shared with mine terribly.
Last Sunday was Mother's Day. I have been far from my Mama for some time, now. We visit, and talk nearly everyday, but I can't help but feel a disconnect from how close we were when I was younger. I'm sure the distance takes it's toll, and I think what might be happening in this relationship- something that has been happening in most of my relationships- is that I am growing away from certain bonds. I'm also more of an adult than I've ever been.
After succumbing to sickness, after being so down and out for such a long time, the thoughts of previous comforts are what get you through when you're struggling to reclaim a sense of normalcy in your life. I had a stuffed bear when I was small that my mother and I named Bones. He was small and brown, and had a red bandanna tied around his neck. The flake that I was- and sometimes still am- I left him everywhere, and when I'd lose him again and again, my mother would somehow find a copy of him in a toy store and bring it home so I wouldn't be so sad. It wasn't until much later that I realized just what a stretch that was for her, as we weren't the wealthiest on the block. I was a super sensitive kid, and my mom was awesome in helping to keep my anxiety at ease in any way she could.
This is my courage frog. When I'm sick and need to be admitted to the hospital, I take this little guy along, keeping him close to my bed where he can keep an eye on me when my Mom's far away in Florida. She gave him to me during my first Crohn's hospital stay in Boston.
Can you think of things that your parents did for you, not necessarily to keep you from being upset [though powerful cures may often be needed to subdue the willies, heebie-jeebies, etc.] that stuck with you? Or something that you remember from when you were little that just seems to make everything feel a little better? Maybe the smell of a certain breakfast, or songs that you sang with friends or relatives? I remember my good friend Dina explaining years ago that when she was sick as a child, her mother would make her english muffins with peanut butter. Go Stace!
I think that because I'm grown, and far from my Ma, I'm always looking for ways to mother myself. These urges come in small doses and pack a punch. I like that. And I can't wait to be the tough little me that I was before taking so much sick time. I'll keep thinking about finding new methods to make myself less scared.
I still have a newer version of the worry dolls that I used to carry around as a nervous kid.
Ever have these?
I'm sure I'll get Bones out of the closet every now and again to give him a good squeeze and think about how safe I felt when the both of us fit on my Mom's lap.
Until then though, this guy will have to do.
