Dee’s Space

Many people have asked me how I’m finding motherhood.

“Agreeable”, has always my wry answer. I was always a little careful not to enthuse or coo too much. I am not sure why. Maybe it’s thinking how many amongst us are single still, or married with no children, sometimes not by choice. Of course while I could contain my response, my big broad smile always betrays the true depths of my profound joy.

Or maybe I think this could be one of those questions, with a quality not unlike the proverbial “How are you”. One that’s become a greeting rather than a true inquisition so the socially polite really shouldn’t take so seriously as to launch into any lengthy response.

Perhaps.

But here’s what I honestly have to say about “motherhood’”. And why I can’t quite answer this en-route to the water cooler or before the lift door opens again.

Motherhood makes me kinder. almost. Because I want others to be kind to Lucien. Something in me, once the invincible, now believes in the breaking of tiny hearts and know that little hands rubbing big fat tear drops must never be left uncomforted.

I started to believe in simple things again.

Like how I want to make the world a better place, or at least create the possibility of it. Because I wouldn’t , couldn’t, shouldn’t be here forever; I want to leave a place of much grandeur behind. One that aspires, tries hard and never gives up on the human endeavour for ever ascending greatness. In a manner that seeks grace, is never boastful, always encouraging, never reproachful.

So whenever I see someone find it themselves to say Sorry when they can actually get away without doing so, when they are able to squarely acknowledge where they’ve faltered and seek forgiveness in earnest apology, I am moved. Not simply because of the humanity of it all but because this tells me, that this dream of a better world, is possible. Because Greatness already exists amongst us.

Similarly, every thoughtless arrogance and deliberate act of superiority dampens this possibility. In each of these acts, an opportunity to do good goes untapped, our god-given ability to raise ourselves above any situation, made ineffectual.

And we’re all guilty. Me especially, and that’s why this dream of being part of a better world, needs to start with me.

And that’s why it’s not so much how great motherhood has been for me, but how being responsible for Lucien has been such a gift in many ways. Because I am gaining so much in return.

And it’s all very “agreeable”.

Something magical happens when you put a baby and a grandparent together.

As in this video, we have 3 month-old Lucien who can hardly keep his head steady, suddenly showing immense talent as the dancing baby, taking flight in Ah Ma’s arms.

Aren’t they having fun?

I was an angry person for a very long time.

A bruised and unsightly bucket of deep deep anger that I nursed quietly. For decades. Angry at the insipidity of ineffectual love, angry at the forgetfulness of hurt that erases events but not their sting.

Then I became a Mom..

It took me a really long time to come to this awareness but I finally know now how Dad ached when he could not provide as he wished, when we had struggles and he couldn’t help. When we pained and he was the cause.

In his youth, he was hard, steely and violent. Our simple minds simultaneously loved and hated him. During the peak of my own violent coming of age, I was a seething teenager with an unbalanced sentimentality that would erupt in rebellious demonstrations of all sorts. The one thing I never did was screw my grades up. Why? Because I knew it was the only real hope I could give myself.

You broke me down utterly but I am re-invented bigger, stronger and better.

I know now how deeply you must ache today. For the years that lapsed and the time we spent in combat. For knowing that as we discover each other again today, so much has been lost.

But take heart. Because you have taught in us a fierce love Daddy. Deeply profound even for me to grasp but its possibility wells in my heart each time I see your smoke-stained grin meet Lucien’s toothless one. I think Life itself streams possibilities of renewal and resuscitation. Like how Lucien’s birth has made your pain mine, bringing our hearts together once again. That we may live again as Father and Daughter. Forever and Ever.

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To stop the music press stop/pause.

This is a beautiful song about the seasons of life. Being a parent now makes me acutely aware of how Time strips away at all of life. Whether you do the right things or not. So the only thing I can do is to keep a heightened awareness of the here and now.

Never has my mortality been this strongly felt.

THE CIRCLE GAME Play

Yesterday, a child came out to wander
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Then, the child moved ten times ’round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, “When you’re older”, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him, “Take your time. It won’t be long now.
‘Til you drag your feet to slow the circles down”

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and ’round and ’round
In the circle game
And go ’round and ’round and ’round in the circle game.

A child embodies an endless array of wondrous things that amaze, cheer and humble us.   They look at the world with such innocence and excitement, full of wonder and awe; a little afraid sometimes but always very game for discovery.

As adults, often, our world views become less glorious and it becomes harder and harder to become excited by the world.  Worldly possessions become our new toys and we let go of the simple but dear things that used to be all we needed in this world.  Like a hug, a cuddle, a kiss on the forehead, a lot of love even when you’re swimming in a diaper full of shit.

Why does the significance of these things diminish as we grow up? Is it the loss of innocence of our little ones? Or is it our failure to love unconditionally as little children stumble from the cradle of our arms into the world; when we begin to weigh expectations on their growing shoulders, matching affection with accomplishments?

I have no answers. But I know we are not perfect. Maybe Babies are, for a while.

What I know is that today, baby Lucien receives an abundance of love. In the simplest but most important gestures. A cradled stroll for as long as he fancies no matter how the weight breaks our aging arms, immediate attention to his every whimper, hugs and pats at night, clinical attention to his daily needs and a crazed amount of love that almost always threatens to burst my heart at the seams.

My prayer is for Lucien to always have a child-like purity, that he would always hold these dear and know that all the money in the world would not buy this deep affection and love.

May we, always continue to love him this way, even when he is no longer a babbling roll of cute fat and pinchable pink cheeks.

That we may teach one another the true meaning of Family.