You know, I really think I'm destined to be a peculiar voice in my family.
Today, my brother asked me "What do you think of me?" I took the time to think through all of the conversations I had with mom over the last few months and breathed deeply. I thought and waited for the words to come. I waited for grace.
Then I told him the truth. I told him about my mom's last few months. I told him that he was still finding his way as an adult. I told him that he needed to think about my mom's feelings when he spoke to her - and that I told mom the same things about him. I told him about the struggles she goes through to give him what he asks for casually and without a thought to her sacrifice. I explained why the other siblings seem to be irritated with him occasionally without him ever having spoken to him because of "something that mom said". I told him, in short, that he should be more mindful of things around him and that, although he's a little more stubborn than he should be, he'll be okay.
My mom walked into the early part of this conversation and, afterward, sought me out to ask what I said. Again, grace. I explained it to her. I barely got halfway through before she stood up, suddenly in tears, to ask me to forgive her for anything she may have done to hurt me.
It's funny: moments ago I said "She's not a perfect mom - she has never been one - but she has been a very good mom to all of us."
As she said that, I tried to tell her it was okay, but she wanted me to let her ask for forgiveness anyway, so I did. Then I held her in my arms and let her cry for a bit (I did manage to avoid the ruin of any applied mascara) and told her I loved her and that she is a good mom.
Because she is a good mom.
Six kids, no instruction manual, six wildly varying personalities... yeah, she did a good job, IMO.
There's a lot more to it, but man.... I'm doomed to be the counselor in this family. I see why mom asked me to talk to my younger brother; I'm the only one that's level-headed enough to explain things like this without losing my temper.
She wonders if he heard me. Maybe he has. For now, looking around, I'd say that we're all ears and hearts here.
Today, my brother asked me "What do you think of me?" I took the time to think through all of the conversations I had with mom over the last few months and breathed deeply. I thought and waited for the words to come. I waited for grace.
Then I told him the truth. I told him about my mom's last few months. I told him that he was still finding his way as an adult. I told him that he needed to think about my mom's feelings when he spoke to her - and that I told mom the same things about him. I told him about the struggles she goes through to give him what he asks for casually and without a thought to her sacrifice. I explained why the other siblings seem to be irritated with him occasionally without him ever having spoken to him because of "something that mom said". I told him, in short, that he should be more mindful of things around him and that, although he's a little more stubborn than he should be, he'll be okay.
My mom walked into the early part of this conversation and, afterward, sought me out to ask what I said. Again, grace. I explained it to her. I barely got halfway through before she stood up, suddenly in tears, to ask me to forgive her for anything she may have done to hurt me.
It's funny: moments ago I said "She's not a perfect mom - she has never been one - but she has been a very good mom to all of us."
As she said that, I tried to tell her it was okay, but she wanted me to let her ask for forgiveness anyway, so I did. Then I held her in my arms and let her cry for a bit (I did manage to avoid the ruin of any applied mascara) and told her I loved her and that she is a good mom.
Because she is a good mom.
Six kids, no instruction manual, six wildly varying personalities... yeah, she did a good job, IMO.
There's a lot more to it, but man.... I'm doomed to be the counselor in this family. I see why mom asked me to talk to my younger brother; I'm the only one that's level-headed enough to explain things like this without losing my temper.
She wonders if he heard me. Maybe he has. For now, looking around, I'd say that we're all ears and hearts here.
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