I am every age I have ever been, spinning around and around in the circle game. I am at once old and wise and young and hopeful, in this heartbreakingly beautiful shape-shifting life.
Around and around we go again. The seasons do stack up yet, with a bit of distance, when you look back, it does appear circular. Older me learns from younger me - when I reflect on where she was. Older me (as a mom) learns from younger me (my daughter). And I continue to learn from my older me - my mom.
This essay touched me deeply.
I wish I kept my journals from my youth. I would love to walk through those words. Funny, I never thought they contained any value so we parted ways.
I want to ask my mom - what saved you when you were in the throes of mothering? She was a single divorced mom raising 3 kids, thrust back into school and the workplace. What was her saving grace back in those days?
Thanks for inspiring me to have this conversation.
Sending love and light as you continue to navigate all your homesickness. 🫶
Allison, thanks for reading so thoughtfully and letting me know how the essay affected you. I am so glad that it prompted those really interesting questions for your mom and I'm sure you'll have a wonderful conversation. Appreciate the love and the light. We had a beautiful Celebration of Life for Mom this past Sunday and in due time I will be able to write about it.
Beautifully written Amy. And yes, life is indeed a circle game. Your shared memories brought to mind a fond memory of my mom visiting me when I was at college. We went to the 5 & 10 store & laughed together at the kitchy cards, then got vanilla peanut butter ice cream & went back to the house I shared with 11 other young women, not a sorority, but chosen friends. We danced to 80s music & mom danced "the pony" to every song. I recall cheering her on. Sadly, recently she brought up this memory & she recalled feeling made fun of. My memory is that we all thought it was cute that she danced the pony to every song. Ah, well. On we go our memories circling round in the circle game. Doing the best we're able & reminding our younger & current selves of this.🙏
Kristin, I am so touched that you shared this memory and that it was a fond one for you, a time when your mother showed a joy in her dancing, and how interesting (and yes, sad sometimes) that we have such different perceptions of the same experience. You, my friend, are doing the best you can in the current dance with your mom and I see it and witness your strength and love. Keep loving that younger you, keep her close, because caregiving is the hardest work we will ever do, especially with our moms.
Thank you dear Amy for your kind response and perspective on this memory. With so much love as you continue to find ways to carry your mother forward with you.♡
So beautiful. More than ever, I see that life really is a "circle game" - the spiral of healing and life. Always a bit in the young us and a bit here right now. Thanks for touching my heart deeply today.
The nineteen-year-old you was so deep and introspective. What a beautiful and deep journey you've been on, continuing to grow, heal, and evolve.
Thank you Deb for being such an important part of this most recent evolution of the circle for me--coming full circle home to that 19-year-old and even younger selves, able to love them and hold them and reassure them as only an older and wiser woman can:-)
A beautifully written evocative and poignant piece on life's circular tale and the dissociation between one's chronological time and one's inner sense of self, pulsating through one's time and space.
Thank you so much Elena for acknowledging the path of evolution that I am on; when we don't evolve, we stagnate, this much I know (and part of me has always known it even if I resisted some of what was calling to me earlier in my life).
What beautiful memories of the ways your mother loved you in all the ways a mom (my version of an ideal mom) would--providing you warmth, safety, nourishment and guidance on how to navigate in a complex and at times hostile world. She was always there to catch you should you fell. I read this with an aching heart as I never received that kind of support from my mom during the pivotal years when I was growing into an adult. She wasn't there emotionally to support and guide me. In fact I had to do that for her, even though I was just a child. But I know she was in survival mode due to immigration, and didn't have a sense of safety in her being for all those years I was growing up.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment. With all my heart, I wish you could have had a mom like mine. How fortunate that we can parent ourselves and that over time we can gain a deeper understanding of the ways in which our parents could not be there for us, as you have worked so hard to achieve.
My Mom lives on in me and I can see and hear her every day. I catch myself saying or doing something and there she is, coming out of me, usually in a good way. She and I had a final conversation in person in October, before she was discharged from a hospital to go into a residence for continuing care. I was living in London and returned there. We talked on the phone numerous times before she died in February the following year. She was 2 months shy of finishing 96 years.
Joni Mitchell was the inspiration for the title of my Substack, "From Both Sides Now." As for these conversations we have with ourselves and who we have become, have a look at my post "This Version of Me." Me talking to and about myself, still evolving, changing and alive.
That is a wonderful long life, Gary, 96 years and I have heard so many people tell me that no matter how many years have gone by, they still think of, or are in conversation with, their mothers or parents who have passed. How cool that Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" was the inspiration for the title of your Substack. That song absolutely crushed me when I was coming to the knowing I wanted to leave my marriage, it was as if I was hearing it in an entirely new way, with all the promise of youth and the pain in knowing a long marriage would not go the distance. I love that you are having those conversations with yourself and I will look at the post you mention. "Still evolving, changing and alive" is the most beautiful way to live.
I feel this in so many ways, Amy. I am homesick for my mom, too. Still. Grateful we are sharing our stories here and creating a community to celebrate parts of ourself, but the thing with moms is they just know. You don’t have to ask. It is exhausting, the asking. I love Joni and all the music here. A gift today— thank you!
Emily, thanks for leaving this kind and thoughtful comment and for your empathy on homesickness for our moms. Moms "just know," it's true. My daughters are gathering around me this week as we prepare for my Mom's celebration of life on Sunday and already my oldest and I are having the kind of deep conversations where she asks "how do you know?" about an important life milestone she's considering. And I impart all the wisdom I've gained, passed onto me by my mother, which she received from my maternal grandmother...and on and on it goes, that beautiful circle where one day my daughters may be passing on the things they know (and the grandmother and great grandmother knew) to the next generation.
Around and around we go again. The seasons do stack up yet, with a bit of distance, when you look back, it does appear circular. Older me learns from younger me - when I reflect on where she was. Older me (as a mom) learns from younger me (my daughter). And I continue to learn from my older me - my mom.
This essay touched me deeply.
I wish I kept my journals from my youth. I would love to walk through those words. Funny, I never thought they contained any value so we parted ways.
I want to ask my mom - what saved you when you were in the throes of mothering? She was a single divorced mom raising 3 kids, thrust back into school and the workplace. What was her saving grace back in those days?
Thanks for inspiring me to have this conversation.
Sending love and light as you continue to navigate all your homesickness. 🫶
Allison, thanks for reading so thoughtfully and letting me know how the essay affected you. I am so glad that it prompted those really interesting questions for your mom and I'm sure you'll have a wonderful conversation. Appreciate the love and the light. We had a beautiful Celebration of Life for Mom this past Sunday and in due time I will be able to write about it.
All true. What would I ask my mother? I don’t know. I would just want to be in her arms again.
Beautifully written Amy. And yes, life is indeed a circle game. Your shared memories brought to mind a fond memory of my mom visiting me when I was at college. We went to the 5 & 10 store & laughed together at the kitchy cards, then got vanilla peanut butter ice cream & went back to the house I shared with 11 other young women, not a sorority, but chosen friends. We danced to 80s music & mom danced "the pony" to every song. I recall cheering her on. Sadly, recently she brought up this memory & she recalled feeling made fun of. My memory is that we all thought it was cute that she danced the pony to every song. Ah, well. On we go our memories circling round in the circle game. Doing the best we're able & reminding our younger & current selves of this.🙏
Kristin, I am so touched that you shared this memory and that it was a fond one for you, a time when your mother showed a joy in her dancing, and how interesting (and yes, sad sometimes) that we have such different perceptions of the same experience. You, my friend, are doing the best you can in the current dance with your mom and I see it and witness your strength and love. Keep loving that younger you, keep her close, because caregiving is the hardest work we will ever do, especially with our moms.
Thank you dear Amy for your kind response and perspective on this memory. With so much love as you continue to find ways to carry your mother forward with you.♡
So beautiful. More than ever, I see that life really is a "circle game" - the spiral of healing and life. Always a bit in the young us and a bit here right now. Thanks for touching my heart deeply today.
The nineteen-year-old you was so deep and introspective. What a beautiful and deep journey you've been on, continuing to grow, heal, and evolve.
Thank you Deb for being such an important part of this most recent evolution of the circle for me--coming full circle home to that 19-year-old and even younger selves, able to love them and hold them and reassure them as only an older and wiser woman can:-)
A beautifully written evocative and poignant piece on life's circular tale and the dissociation between one's chronological time and one's inner sense of self, pulsating through one's time and space.
Thank you Nessy, for this kind comment and for understanding exactly what I tried to convey.
Favorite song... wonderful way to celebrate yourself and your world, your support systems, your evolution... thank you, Amy.
Thank you so much Elena for acknowledging the path of evolution that I am on; when we don't evolve, we stagnate, this much I know (and part of me has always known it even if I resisted some of what was calling to me earlier in my life).
What beautiful memories of the ways your mother loved you in all the ways a mom (my version of an ideal mom) would--providing you warmth, safety, nourishment and guidance on how to navigate in a complex and at times hostile world. She was always there to catch you should you fell. I read this with an aching heart as I never received that kind of support from my mom during the pivotal years when I was growing into an adult. She wasn't there emotionally to support and guide me. In fact I had to do that for her, even though I was just a child. But I know she was in survival mode due to immigration, and didn't have a sense of safety in her being for all those years I was growing up.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment. With all my heart, I wish you could have had a mom like mine. How fortunate that we can parent ourselves and that over time we can gain a deeper understanding of the ways in which our parents could not be there for us, as you have worked so hard to achieve.
My Mom lives on in me and I can see and hear her every day. I catch myself saying or doing something and there she is, coming out of me, usually in a good way. She and I had a final conversation in person in October, before she was discharged from a hospital to go into a residence for continuing care. I was living in London and returned there. We talked on the phone numerous times before she died in February the following year. She was 2 months shy of finishing 96 years.
Joni Mitchell was the inspiration for the title of my Substack, "From Both Sides Now." As for these conversations we have with ourselves and who we have become, have a look at my post "This Version of Me." Me talking to and about myself, still evolving, changing and alive.
That is a wonderful long life, Gary, 96 years and I have heard so many people tell me that no matter how many years have gone by, they still think of, or are in conversation with, their mothers or parents who have passed. How cool that Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" was the inspiration for the title of your Substack. That song absolutely crushed me when I was coming to the knowing I wanted to leave my marriage, it was as if I was hearing it in an entirely new way, with all the promise of youth and the pain in knowing a long marriage would not go the distance. I love that you are having those conversations with yourself and I will look at the post you mention. "Still evolving, changing and alive" is the most beautiful way to live.
I feel this in so many ways, Amy. I am homesick for my mom, too. Still. Grateful we are sharing our stories here and creating a community to celebrate parts of ourself, but the thing with moms is they just know. You don’t have to ask. It is exhausting, the asking. I love Joni and all the music here. A gift today— thank you!
Emily, thanks for leaving this kind and thoughtful comment and for your empathy on homesickness for our moms. Moms "just know," it's true. My daughters are gathering around me this week as we prepare for my Mom's celebration of life on Sunday and already my oldest and I are having the kind of deep conversations where she asks "how do you know?" about an important life milestone she's considering. And I impart all the wisdom I've gained, passed onto me by my mother, which she received from my maternal grandmother...and on and on it goes, that beautiful circle where one day my daughters may be passing on the things they know (and the grandmother and great grandmother knew) to the next generation.
Love and light to you, Amy. Your daughters are lucky to have a mom like you, and we were very lucky to have ours.