Recently I cried over the loss of my parents. While this may seem natural to most of you, for me, it is an unusual occurrence. I lost my father approximately eighteen years ago in a car accident and my mother succumbed to cancer roughly three years later. For reference, I am currently 33 so it has been 18 years since my father passed. I have lived more life without them than with them. The loss of both my parents at an age when I probably needed them the most has altered who I am for good or bad. You see, my parents were not my version of ideal parents. Well, lets be real, they likely were not anyone’s version of good role models or responsible parents, but I loved them nonetheless and I have grown to love them more as the years pass. My parents divorced when I was a young girl and there are a million small details that I cannot capture in this post to help anyone fully grasp what I witnessed and felt, but I will do my best to share the parts that are most defining to me as a person. Right now, you might be wondering “what the hell does this have to do with me” or “how will this help me”? Well, from this I hope you gain perspective that your own shortcomings do not define you as a person and secondly, I hope that you realize that the love extended by your children is immensely unconditional.
I spent countless summers on my father’s tug boat, The Lady Desire. I can still recall the pungent, slightly sweet smell of diesel. I can hear the engine roaring and the sound of water stirring behind us. I can see the banks of the Great Mississippi lined with native shrubbery and trees. I spent most of my time during the day in a small bunk reading The Princess Diaries and most of my nights sipping hot coffee and spitting sunflower seeds in the wheelhouse. My father affectionately referred to me as “Be-bop” and the song “Butterfly Kisses” will always be the song that he left behind to us. These are some of my most vivid memories with my father that in recent years I have allowed to overshadow the negative because there was so much of it to unpack and let go of.
You see, my father and mother were young when I was born. They were still children themselves. They were selfish as children tend to be and they were unpredictable as children tend to be. I do not wish to attack my parents character, especially posthumous. I can only share my truth in the most honest and vulnerable way that I know how.
You see, even following my mother and fathers divorce, they continued to meet up. I vividly recall two of these so called meet ups. For many years, I thought Franklin High School was a prison because on one occasion my mother met my father there while he was a trustee. I was tasked with looking out as they took to the back seat. This happened on several occassions at different locations before I caught on to what was happening and on one occasion I got out of the car and began walking over the bridge. My father chased after me. It was the last time I was ever a “look out” girl for them.
For years, I did not know how to piece together how I felt about my mother and father. For many years, I mourned what could have or should have been. I mourned normal parent child relationships, I envied other young women with active mothers in their lives to share in important milestones, dress shop, or be by their side. I mourned something that I would have never had with my mother because that was not the type of woman that she was. She was not ever going to take me dress shopping or smile from ear to ear at any of my accomplishments. She probably would not have showed up. Nonetheless, I loved the idea of what she could have been. I cannot remember my father ever attending a single award ceremony or school event either so I can say the same for him. While he spared time with us for one vacation a year, he was not consistently a part of our lives. But as the years have progressed and I have grown, I have grown to love them unconditionally—the selfishness and unpredictability included.
Through the pain and sorrow, they inadvertently gave me the most beautiful gift – a desire to be a good mother. To me, the meaning of being a good mother is subjective, defined by life experiences. Through the years of raising children, my definition of a good mother has grown with me. At one time, I would have equated being a good mother with being perfect. I know I held the idea that I needed to be perfect. Probably because I saw firsthand just how imperfect my parents were. We needed a strict routine and I was only a good mother if my child in turn reflected perfection as well. Her behaviors and grades were a reflection of whether or not I was a good mother. Over time, through a lot of soul searching, growth in my faith, and forgiveness of my parents (and myself), this definition has thankfully evolved. I find value in being present, honest, and vulnerable. My goal is to get each of them to Heaven. We indulge in things of this world with grateful hearts and knowledge that life and materialistic possessions are fleeting. While I want them to each put forth their best effort and attitudes in all of their adventures, I recognize that they are still discovering the world around them. They are running their own race, at their own pace, and that is what God created each of us to do. I am not afraid of my own failure or theirs because it gives us opportunity to learn and ultimately love each other through it. I recognize that my definition of a good mother will still evolve with my own growth and maturity, but for now, this is what I hold true to my heart.
The truth is that your children will love you unconditionally through all the heartache and noise. I know that deep within myself, the child within me never stopped loving my parents. If you can learn to live authentically, recognizing your own shortcomings and growing from them, you too will give your child the best gift in the world, peace in their hearts and a safe place to land when they fall, even once you are no longer here.
And with that I’ll leave you with my daddy’s song because he isn’t here…..
“There’s two things I know for sure She was sent here from heaven
And she’s daddy’s little girl
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night
She talks to Jesus
And I close my eyes
And I thank God for all of the joy in my life
Oh, but most of all
For butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
“Walk beside the pony, Daddy, it’s my first ride”
“I know the cake looks funny, Daddy, but I sure tried”
Oh, with all that I’ve done wrong
I must have done something right
To deserve a hug every morning
And butterfly kisses at night
Sweet 16 today
She’s looking like her mama
A little more everyday
One part woman
The other part girl
To perfume and make-up
From ribbons and curls
Trying her wings out in a great big world
But I remember
Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
“You know how much I love you, Daddy, but if you don’t mind”
“I’m only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time”
Oh, with all that I’ve done wrong
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning
And butterfly kisses at night
All the precious time
Ooh
Like the wind, the years go by
Precious butterfly
Spread your wings and fly
She’ll change her name today
She’ll make a promise
And I’ll give her away
Standing in the bride-room
Just staring at her
She asked me what I’m thinking
And I said, “I’m not sure”
“I just feel like I’m losing my baby girl”
And she leaned over
Gave me butterfly kisses with her mama there
Sticking little white flowers all up in her hair
“Walk me down the aisle, Daddy, it’s just about time”
“Does my wedding gown look pretty, Daddy?”
“Daddy, don’t cry”
Oh, with all that I’ve done wrong
I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning
And butterfly kisses
I couldn’t ask God for more
Man, this is what love is
I know I gotta let her go
But I’ll always remember
Every hug in the morning
And butterfly kisses”
Chasing Destiny 