When I turned twenty-two, I gave myself a gift. Each year for as long as I could remember I would get a birthday call from my mother. She had plenty of time to imbibe completely before the call and marinate in all her disappointments and regrets. Her calls were nasty. I usually had a list of all my faults and character traits that were wanting. I dreaded these calls and as a result, my birthday.
Each year I would watch the days in September count down until October fourth. And on the morning of that day a fester would grow inside me and become bigger and heavier until the phone would ring.
On the morning of my twenty second birthday, a plan began to form inside of me. I had had enough. I was tired of this old plan and knew if I did not put an end to it, we would go one like this each and every year. A voice grew louder inside myself, “This isn’t worth it. I am worth more than this.” The voice grew into a resolve, and I knew what I had to do.
The phone rang and I answered. The list began and holding back fearful tears I calmly explained that I was an adult, and this wasn’t going to keep happening. I told my mother that if she could not treat me with respect than I did not want to speak to her again. I hung up the phone. It did not go over well. It got worse before I finally took the phone off the hook.
Emotions came fast and quick. I knew that I had taken a risk in giving up my relationship with my mom, but I had to save myself. A week later I received a FedEx package filled with my favorite chocolate chip cookie bars and a small note – a peace offering. I love you, mom.
That night I had a phone call and we talked for an hour. Our relationship was different after that birthday. We only had another year together before she died suddenly and unexpectedly. But it was a good year and I treasure it. I remember the lesson of that year. I’m not always so good in giving myself protective boundaries. But that has been changing. This past year has been a year of learning and remembering.
I’ve learned to follow my inner compass.
At forty-six, I don’t know how such a young person knew to say no to her mother. I’m so glad that somehow, I knew. I’ll follow that person.
So happy birthday to me. And happy birthday to a new relationships between myself and with my mother. It is never too late to begin again.
My local lake. A place my mother would have loved.
