Mama's boy

One of the unexpected side effects of watching my wife blossom into the nurturing tigress that she has become in the rearing of her two boys is a deeper appreciation - largely unspoken - for having been raised by my own mother.

Amy exhibits the same unswerving dedication to the upbringing of our two sons that I experienced first-hand for so many years.  Her approach to the details of child-rearing varies greatly at times (as it should), but the overwhelming impression that's left is one with which I am eminently familiar: the health and welfare of her sons is of paramount importance, superseding everything else.  Declan and Tavish aren't an added element to her life, they have become the nucleus; all else orbits that singularity.  (In this regard I think it's important for a husband to get caught up in his wife's wake and for her to acknowledge the single-mindedness of her own determination.  Which is another discussion entirely.)

I think it's quite impossible for a son to fully reconcile himself to the sacrifices made by a mother for his benefit.  As a father I can see more of it now, especially bearing witness to my own wife, but there is still a lot that eludes my comprehension.

Something to illustrate this. 

My folks were divorced when my brother and I were quite young and whatever messiness fell out from that was largely kept from the purview of our relationship with each parent.  Though the fact that it wasn't an entirely amicable break was obvious.  It was a divorce, for Chrissake; sunshine and rainbows were not the order of the day.

My dad was first to get remarried, and at that point in my life (for reasons that still elude me today) I was enamoured of and engaged in the hobby of rug hooking.  I found some sort of sweet succour in the mindless repetition of knotting bits of coloured yarn to a patterned web.  I was rewarded with a fuzzy rainbow, or some spotted mushrooms, or (I think once) a Care Bear.

For the wedding, I wanted to make a rug hooking as a gift.  Something hand made and personal.  It was the biggest I had tackled to that point and I struggled during the last few weekday evenings to finish the top rows.  My most vivid memory is that of being in tears, hunkered over the folds of the nearly completed work, knotting furiously, and falling about five rows short by the time Dad came to pick us up for the nuptial weekend.

The next morning my mother stopped by my dad's place (something she NEVER did), and delivered a gift-wrapped package for me to give to my father and step-mum on their wedding day.  She had stayed up to finish what I had started.

Given the stormy history behind that period, it took me 20 years to fathom the enormity of the gift she had given me and to thank her in a slightly more appropriate - yet still insufficient - way.  But she was my mother and, as always, put her sons first.

That's only one instance; there are many more that I'll never know of.  And it is only now, being a parent and a witness to my wife as a mother, that I am able to glean a little more understanding of - and appreciation for - the self-sacrificing dedication of a mother for her boys.  At least in the two instances to which I've been privy.  This sacrifice does not engender an obligation in the children, since parents undertake this long journey of their own volition, but some level of acknowledgement as awareness grows certainly does not go amiss.

Infant Eyes

Blood of my blood, bone of my bone,

Heart of my being's heart,

Strange visitant, yet very son;

All this, and more, thou art.

In thy soft lineaments I trace,

More winning daily grown,

The sweetness of thy mother's face

Transfiguring my own.

That grave but all untroubled gaze,

So rapt yet never dim,

Seems following o'er their starry ways

The wings of cherubim.

Two worlds man hardly may descry,

(For manhood clouds them o'er),

Commingled to mine inward eye

Are shadowed forth once more:

That lost world, whither man's regret

With fictive fancy turns;

That world to come, where brighter yet

The star of promise burns.

Time and his weary offspring Care

Fade in that gaze away;

One moment mystically fair

Lives on, one timeless day.

~Ernest Myers

Comments

[marian]

The fierceness of the mother-son bond took me totally by surprise. I had no idea. It's a very elemental, primitive feeling and I love it. It turns you into something flamingly primal — that knowledge that you'd sacrifice your life for your son. I can so totally relate to what your mother did (although I have to admit I laughed out loud — with affection, mind ye — when I got to the first mention of 'rug hooking'). She was, I am certain, quite helpless in the face of her need to do that for you.

I'll save the rest for my own blog, but this was truly beautiful.

[Simon]

About that flamingly primal-ness, Marian:

Just after a co-worker's son was born, about a month before Dex was, this co-worker told me that the sensation for him was like a willingness to rip off his own arm and beat to death with the bloody stump anyone who'd dare threaten his boy.

Amy and I are both quite like that.

[rick]

With the scent of peotry still lingering at this site, I'm reminded of some lines from another poet:

(their) courage was not courage,
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

Beautiful post, Simon.

[Holly Capote]

Don't know if you welcome dissent here, Simon. Do ya?

[Simon]

I surely do. I don't expect folks just to blow sunshine up my backside, as delightful as the thought of a solar enema is.

[Holly Capote]

Okay, kids were my career. I've taught hundreds of them, known thousands of them, and entertained tens of thousands. I've also been invited into hundreds of homes, as a community's beloved schoolmarm. When mommies or daddies died or when kids were abused, they were often placed with me. So, I've seen a lotta kids and a lotta families and it's my sense that the greatest gift a parent can give a child is not to focus fully on them and make them the center of the family, but to love one's spouse and do so with skill. Kids learn by mimicking. So, if you fight with your spouse and do it openly and with skill, kids will note your tactics and replicate them.

Likewise, if you adore you spouse and do it well and openly, kids will think, "That's the sorta hubby/wifey I want to be. And that's the sorta hubby/wifey I want to find."

When kids are born, too much attention can turn to them and the primary relationship in the family, that between the spouses, can suffer. If it suffers, it might collapse. And if it suffers, kids will witness and might mimic bad traits instead of good ones.

I understand that we're supposed to say we'd yank off our arms for our kids and swing away, but is a relationship without boundaries, with unfettered giving, best for a tyke. It sure isn't going to be replicated later in their life.

Thanks for allowing dissent.

Hugs and kisses,

Little Miss Holly

[Simon]

I'm sorry Holly, but I agree with you too much.

My wife and I are fully aware that our roles as spouses are as important, indirectly, as is our direct parenting. If I am a bad husband for ignoring my wife and lavishing too much attention on my kids, that's a double whammy.

To incorporate a child (children) INTO a family rather than making him the centre of all of it is very important. When I spoke of sacrifice and singleminded dedication of a mother (or father, for that matter), I was alluding more to the intangibles that a child will never know of directly but still benefit from.

Leading by example is very much key.

[Holly Capote]

Groovy!

[Mark]

This was great, and timely to me, because I finished the opening paragraph of my next post (not quite posted yet) thusly:

To those who, even after marriage, ask what love is, I say you may never know unless you have a child.

We have a very loving relationship, and Ben is always sure to remind us to give each other a "kiss and a hug" before I leave for work. He's fully aware of the ways in which we do and do not get along, and he's only just about to turn three.

[TerriTorial]

When I first found out JJ was to be with Penis I cried all the way home from the office...what was I going to do with a Penis? I was afraid I would never bond with a boy and it scared me.

It funny now as I think my bond with JJ is more than with Diva. She's more Daddy's girl. JJ and I just click..not sure what it is. We're just one.

I love Diva to the moon but it's just different. And that's okay too. My kids mean the world to me..with our without a penis.

[Holly Capote]

It's nice when life bushwhacks us, TerriTorial. I'm from a family of 7. My Dad loved me most. This was apparent to all my sibs and it's inevitable. Love wanes and waxes and is never equal. Parents can't choose to love equally, but they can choose to love well through the differences.

[Rosanne/Roxy/Step Mom/Your Dads Wife/Baba]

We both remember receiving this
lovely gift -kowing that you - and now finding out that your mom finished it - I think it was made "from the heart" - it made me, as your "step mom" - I hate that term - feel special and welcome into your life - even if that wasn't the case many times. We had it hanging for a L O N G time and still have it - 20+ years later - would never part with it.

XX OO

[the Mater]

An absolutely beautiful piece of writing, Si. I'd be proud to call you my son too.

Your mom is one classy lady. What she did took courage and generosity of spirit. I hope she has been repaid a hundredfold since then.

Someone once said: "The best thing a father can do for his children is love their mother." I have no doubt that you and Amy are bringing up your sons in such a home.

God bless!

[the Mater]

and ... HAPPY CANADA DAY!

[Tina]

Isn't it amazing, how much we learn about our own parents, as we parent our own children? Quite the eye-opener.
In a month, I will officially become an empty-nester. I'm so happy to have raised two happy, independent children to adulthood, but sometimes I so miss those days when my kids were my own. I can't imagine anything I could do in my life that would surpass having and loving my son and daughter. However, I hear that having grandkids is pretty cool. We shall see ...

[Christy]

Amazing story.

I found the delivery of the gift on the day of your father's wedding the most amazing thing. My inlaws are divorced and both remarried and still will not speak to one another a deacde later. The gift your mother gave you that weekend is priceless.