I'm Dragging My Mom to Court for Mother's Day!

Mother's Day is upon us and naturally my thoughts drift towards the woman who conceived me. It's a miracle in itself that the relationship between my mother and I has survived and is what it has become today. To God be the credit. Mind you, I have always been more lenient towards my mother in matters of forgiveness. The woman may have beat me black and blue, instilled in me some of my greatest and most unhealthiest fears and aversions, and ultimately created in me a sense of revulsion towards intimacy with the female gender but it is no secret I do love her and have always opted to look the other way when dealing with her transgressions. I guess it is true what they say "the love and bond between mother and child is inexplicably strong and almost impossible to undo".

Truth be known, I carry the deepest darkest secrets about my mother, things that she herself is not even aware I know about. I have memories about her that play in my mind but yet she, somehow has managed to surpress and forget. The woman walks enshrouded in a thick layer of denial that not even therapy in her later years has been able to undo. On a side note, I am a firm believer that people who come down with Alzheimers in their old age is in great part due to the shameful secrets that they carry from their youth. When the time of reckoning in this lifetime arrives at their doorstep and the subconscious makes every effort to cause them to finally deal with the skeletons in the closet; as a last chance effort to have the past redeemed and reconciled so they don't have to stand before God in judgement regarding whatever it is in the next life, some are not able to deal and hence the onset and consuming consequences of Alzheimers. Of course, I am not a doctor and none of this has been scientifically proven but I have a hunch I may have caught onto something here. Secrets have a way of weighing the soul down that if not dealt with ultimately drag down with it the mind and spirit of the most able-bodied persons. My prayer for my mother is that she may never have to succumb to the ravages of this disease but somehow, by the grace of God, come to a safe place where she will be able to unburden her soul of all iniquity and past deeds.

More often than not, I want to shake my mother from head to toe and force her to deal with reality. I want to violently shake her out of her stupor and yell at the top of my lungs: "Wake the hell up! Can't you see the smoke and smell the approaching fire?" At the same time I want to take her into my arms and firmly hold her and soothe her longing and irrational fears. I want to whisper as any loving son ought to: " It's okay Ma, I know you meant well. I know you didn't mean to cause so much havoc and pain. I'm okay now. I've survived the fire and come out of the blazing furnace of abuse and injustice refined and stronger because of it. I forgive you because I know you never meant me no harm even if your hands, mouth, and feet were the instruments used to inflict such a deluge of pain. I have learned that my battle is not against flesh and blood and you are flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood. My battle has always been against spiritual strongholds sent my way to steal, rob, and destroy me...us. Be set free from the shame and guilt and come out of your prison before it is too late."

That day may never come for her. With each passing day she becomes entrenched and cemented in her destructive patterns and behaviors and keeps getting farther from the truth that can set her free. She is deathly afraid of pain. Little does she realize how much of it she is already in and how much more awaits her. I want to tell her things that have helped me in my own recovery and journey to wholeness in the hope of seeing her set free but I realize unless she is willing to do the work of recovery and confront the pain deep inside her, my words will be nothing more than fuel to the fire, or worse, more wood to burn in the devastation to come.

So the best gift I can give my Mom this Mother's Day are the unrelenting and unceasing prayers of a son who knows who he can appeal to for freedom to the captive heart. While there is still breath in me I will be like the persistent widow and storm the gates of Heaven on behalf of my mother. I will cry out night and day for justice on her behalf. I will make myself known before the Righteous Judge who loves me and will hear my case. I will ask for mercy while it may yet be found.

Love covers over a multitude of sins. To my mother I say in the presence of all my readers: " I love you. I forgive you. I will pray and believe for you that redemption will draw near and kiss your pain and finally give you rest from all your troubles". I will hope for you and dream the dream of freedom for your weary soul without expecting anything in return. To see you at peace from tormenting lies and finally able to enjoy a measure of healing and joy will be my reward, all I ask in return for loving you.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. I will never stop loving you!

Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.