Son Colin Cudmore with his partner Greta picked me up at about 8:20 AM. this morning for our second annual Mother’s Day breakfast. The first thing I noticed was that Greta got out of the front seat in deference to me. Wow! More on that later.
We got to the Scenic View in plenty of time. In fact we were the first people there! They had said to arrive about 8:30, that the line will form then for the 9 AM opening; so we did. And sat there in the car, in the rain, laughing.
Of course nobody else is here yet. Who wants to stand outside in the rain? About 5 minutes to nine we notice a bunch of cars arriving, so we hustle out of the car to be “first in line” in front of the door. More laughter from us and everybody else who are racing to form a line under the roof overhang.
Two minutes later . . .”Oh wow, look! Somebody is already being served!” Greta points to a corner booth inside. Huh? You mean it’s already open?
More laughter, as the dozen or so of us who are by this time intimately mothers’ day with each other, scurry inside. I made sure we got the other corner booth, the one with the scenic view of Lake Monroe, and that Greta and I were the ones to sit on the side that could see it.
About five minutes after Greta and I ordered coffee and drinks (mine was a hard cider, but I found that I couldn’t drink alcohol so early in the morning), Colin took our picture to send to his brother Sean, in Massachusetts.
Of course we all wanted him here, along with Kiera and Drew, Sean’s kids. The three of them stayed with Greta and Colin during their visit here last summer. “Kiera really likes you,” I told Greta. “She does?” “Yes. She’s terrified of me.” “Why?”
“Because,” Colin chimed in, “Grannie Annie holds her accountable.” True. Plus, Greta and Kiera have similarly sensitive artistic natures, more feminine than mine.
Which reminds me. Our conversation segued between current geopolitics and psychic archetypes.
Greta and I agreed that Colin’s archetype is the White Knight on the White Horse, riding in to save the day. More laughter.
Greta mentioned that she thinks archetypes change over time, depending on our age. I agreed, and mentioned the ancient “Triple Goddess: Maiden, Mother Crone” which some say now, should be changed to the Quadruple Goddess: Maiden, Mother, Queen, Crone. “Yes yes! Greta yelped. “Because we are living so much longer.” I agreed, though confessed that, as publisher of Crone Chronicles: A Journal of Conscious Aging, I had initially resisted the change.
Both Greta and I acknowledged Kali in our psyches. “What’s that?” Colin asked. Greta and I laughed. “The fierce goddess of destruction — and creativity!”
Greta asked what it was like for me when I was 47-48 years old (her age). “I had just met Jeff!” I told her, my fourth and final husband, who died after 12 years. “Why were you attracted to him?” she asked. “Because of his vast, multidimensional nature. Though as a personality, he was a real curmudgeon.”
“So what was your marriage about?”
“I wanted to change him, of course!” More laughter. Actually, it’s more correct to say that I was there to witness his process of becoming a human being.
That’s all he needed to do, it turned out — chip away at the cement wall that separated him from others, and allow his huge heart to shine. Then he could leave — appropriately enough, I from a heart attack!
Which reminds me: in the car Colin had told me that he looked up the blogpost I referred to him two days ago, from Laura Bruno, about how health crises reveal the soul’s path— he has had a painful back for the last seven months — and he said he read the post through carefully, and decided to call Laura for a session in the morning. But when morning came, his back no longer hurt! WOW! He wonders if just reading that post was all it took. We agreed that he might give it a week before coming to that conclusion.
Greta reminded me that we both have two sons. And we discussed how difficult it was for both of us during our kids’ early years. I ended up leaving my children with their father, and saw them only in the summers. Greta left their father, shared custody with the kids, and now, this very year, she graduates to “empty nester.”
Which reminded me to tell them about the film “Boyhood,” that I saw last night, Mothers Day eve; how the first 45 minutes of it triggered me emotionally to the point where I almost turned it off. but was glad I continued. It’s an astonishingly intimate and well done saga about a woman and her two kids, boy and girl, filmed over a period of 12 years, with the same children as they grew up, until her son left home for college. Like me, this woman’s several marriages and divorces were, shall we say, difficult for both her and the kids.
“Yes!, Greta exclaimed. “Angelo (her former husband who is a film editor and director himself) told us to watch that film. That it’s extraordinary.”
To me it was intensely significant that I happened to watch that film on the evening before Mother’s Day, a film that triggered me as a mother, a “damaged mother.” I had no idea what I was getting into when I brought it home from the library! Synchronicity — as usual!
I am both amazed and grateful that I, who never wanted to be a mother, was gifted/burdened with these two wonderful children anyhow, two sons who, now in their 50s, are so very treasured.
My older son Sean called me when we got home. We talked for about 40 minutes, and I told him about the film as well. Said that the boy Mason, in the film, reminded me of him, and warned him that he too, will be triggered — but that it’s worth it. The trajectory of this long film (nearly three hours) is ultimately, a healing journey.
As is, it turns out, the trajectory of my life as a mother.
Greta again sat in the back on the drive to my house. When I got out of the car I kept open the front door for her, gave her a hug, and intoned: The Crone passes the torch to the Queen.”
One final burst of laughter.
Happy Mother’s Day to all.