Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Ma Kelly Day

There are times, often actually, when I am blown away by the thoughtfulness of my husband.   We aren't romantic-ky day in day out but there are times when I am really touched.  Friday was one of those days for me.

My mom's passing anniversary was Friday, 17 years ago.  The number is a little staggering to me in some ways-- there was once a time when I could never have imagined 17 years at all, let alone all those years without her in my life.  I remember 15 being a significant milestone for me in that there was now more years without her than there with her but the bite seems to lessen each year.

Regardless 17 years really is remarkable in it's own way.

I had forgotten about the date entirely this year (which is the first year this happened) but my husband came down to my little cave in the basement to surprise me with flowers.  Yep, he's that awesome.

It's funny to have forgotten about it because in so many regards I have started to catch little personality snags that have emerged in a more prominant way lately. I wonder at times if it has something to do with the preparation for having a daughter of my own that I am thinking more about the role of motherhood and in particular my relationship with my own mother.

The snags emerging seem to be mostly pregnancy related preparations but at times I am starting to wonder if they are related to an underlying fear of not being able to see my kids grow older.  I have many fond memories of my own mother, but at the end of the day, that's all that is really left.

About once a month, I am on some bull shit financial website to make sure that I am saving enough for college. . .even though I just checked it the month before.  I make sure that we eat together as a 'family' whenever we can so that we have a tradition that is our own. I think about the idea of home as sacred. . . it matters to me that things feel right in my home space and that they breath a sigh of relief when they enter into the space we share and that the space if full of warmth.  I make sure that I am in pictures so that my kids could see what I look like holding them when they are young, when I am pregnant with them. . . when I am proud of them.  There is so much joy in my relationship with these children that I want them to see first hand how loved they were from day one.  I want to have family traditions, family vacations and secrets that are ours alone.  I also want to have traditions with my extended family and friends, but will prioritize my little family first.  I want my children to remember what it means to be a Fitzpatrick if they need to.

I am not sure I always remembered what it meant to be a Kelly. . . other than the oddities that occurred after my mom died.  Those who know me well can probably see my snags a mile off. . . the desire for family dinners likely stemming from the lack of a single shared meal at home during my teenage years, the college planning stemming from the frantic panic and hustle to get myself through a four year degree, the pictures and documentation from only having one picture of my mom until recently.

I don't doubt that I am a good mother, but I also hope that my children have a better sense of self and history than I had.   I need tread carefully with that last statement because my mom was amazing, granted a little camera shy but amazing nonetheless. I am hopeful that Matt and I can create roots that will carry them through life even if one of us is unable to be there.

Through this all, I am thankful for a good partner, one that can also see my snags from miles off but doesn't work to correct them or fix them.  Just embraces it, recognizes the occasional positives for what they they bring and buys them flowers once a year even if they aren't self aware enough to recognize the crazy for what it is.

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