Prose - In Honor of Praise

I was reading Annette’s email about the praise she had gotten from her Mom on her stories from our book. How beautiful her praises were, what a supportive Mom, I thought. My mind could not help but drift to my own Mom. She had just told me the day before that she had read all my stories. End of story, no comment. Now at ninety-one, I sometimes wonder if my Mom even gets and understands any of what I am talking about.
At ninety-one I’m hearing from her she’s losing interest in life. She even told Jyoti she wasn’t coming to our reading, lack of interest, I could feel it. Even the morning of the reading I asked if she were going.
“Why would I want to do that?” she asks.
“To support me”, I say.
This same week I had a session with my healer friend Kate. She was working with the pain behind my left shoulder blade. This area is related to lack and is associated mostly with the heart and lungs. Lack of joy, sadness and loss. She saw that my Mom couldn’t really see me. She can’t see who I truly am because she can’t bear to see my wound. That struck a huge chord. This has been an on-going theme all my life, lack of support from the mother. Lack, lack, lack! Lack of weight, lack of love, lack of money, lack of seeing. Yet, deep in my heart I know I chose this theme. And here at sixty-seven I am still working with it. At the same time my consciousness has risen above it. I know its all illusion, but significant illusion. Now I have the gift of these last few years with my Mom. Delving, as I must, into the understanding of this relationship.
So, my granddaughter calls my Mom on the day of our reading to let her know she and my daughter would pick her up at 5:00 PM to go to the reading. The three of them came and seemed to enjoy it all.
By the time I got home it was after 8:30. My Mom had probably already been asleep, but she got up. She was so excited (like I haven’t seen in a long time, if ever), to tell me how great they all three thought I did. She went on and on, the pride and love abundantly flowing. Here at this late age, my Mom was giving me more praise than I ever remember getting from her. This was a potent moment. Jyoti had said, with Mars in the 29th degree of Scorpio, transformational energy was being richly supplied.
As I was attempting to sleep that night I was buzzing with love. I felt like I was in love, except there wasn’t a man in sight. Love for my fellow-writers and our success. Love for my Mother, that she came through and pulled out the little girl inside me and filled her with love and praise. The healing power of love truly and brilliantly fills us with light to the brim.
Patricia