My Mother Never...

A mother's love is a wonderful thing. At times it’s a little too excessive, but you appreciate it anyways. A mother is an irreplaceable figure – a hero – a friend – and sometimes even a foe.

When I first glanced at this topic I instantly hit a wall. I could tell you of all the things she “always did” but when it came to “never” I was at a loss of words. Sure, she never drove on the wrong side of the road, or climbed the Empire State Building, but who’s mom “always did?” To truly answer this question I started by comparing things I’d known other mom’s to do. Some things I wish she had done, but others… I’m glad she didn’t.

My mother used to always walk me to my kindergarten class. All the other kids would hug their mothers and even get a kiss goodbye, but my mom never did. She didn’t even hold my hand! She often forced me to run ahead of her and go to class without her assistance. At the time I thought she was being cruel, perhaps to punish me for not eating my vegetables. But I never sat back to think about the theory behind her actions (how many kindergarteners would?). In retrospect I’m glad she never gave me a kiss goodbye. The other kids would wail the second their mothers left, but I would jump into a game of duck-duck-goose. Plus I would eventually grow out of the “getting-kisses-phase” and I’m not sure I could ever have told my mom to stop kissing me. It wasn’t like she didn’t love me; she just didn’t want me to grow up relying on her for everything.

Like any regular house with children, our home was always a mess. There were a million chores to do and only a minute to complete them. Unlike the other kids, my mother never asked me to help her with any of them. She never asked me to help her clean, cook, or do anything – she was truly independent. But there was more than just one thing going on here. I could never just sit back and watch her do work; it just wasn’t right. I’m not sure if she purposely played a “reverse psychology” game on me, but it worked. I did everything I could – sometimes even more than I physically could – to help her with everything from cleaning the home to cooking the food. I was only 6 at the time, so I’m sure there were times she didn’t want my help, but I sure felt she did. How could you not appreciate a 6 year-olds attempt at cleaning the windows with mud?

As I began to read The Flowers I noticed a similar experience with the main character. I predict that as the main character’s mother spends more time with her boyfriend she will begin to change. She will start to do things she never did before, and I feel the main character will be greatly hurt by this change. He will wish for things to go back to the old ways. Guess I’ll just have to find out.