Mamma Lids

I give myself a big D- as a Mamma today.

The only reason I don’t Flag myself, is that I still care enough that I failed my sweet and only boy so completely.

The Boy.

Ah, me.  He hurts me.

It’s not his fault.  He’s 12, and it is his job to be every inch the almost indecipherable teenager he is and will become.

Prior to writing this post, I checked out some other blogs on the topic.  I am in good company.

It amazes, but does not comfort me, how many of us had our own Hallelujahs broke at his age and never healed.

Like me, lots of fine voices raise the F word to identify the party that broke us.

The voice.

Or the face.

Or the name.

Or the penis.

Or the betrayal.

Or the hurt that is still such a nemesis that it breaks our own Mammahoods we desperately seek to do sooooooooooo, oh so much better than was done for us.

As for me, that hurt is still where much of the anger lives, I know when I was first broke.  I needed no ritual ceremony to uphold the bloody sheets.

I understand.  I so understand my limits and lids.  I know my triggers ad nauseam.  Frankly, they are not all that interesting.

I know my hurts, and which parent I blame for what like some freaked out list of grievances from Rainman.   Like the scar I got sliding into home when I was in the third grade, it’s all very familiar without inviting movement or healing.

The thing is, it doesn’t matter anymore.

My scars might now scar The Boy.

And if I don’t stop blaming, and beg God for the healing only He has to offer, all I’ll do is play the obscene forward.

And if I don’t stop, when The Boy sits on his therapist’s couch when he’s 19, or 21 or 35, and asserts, “It’s all my mamma’s fault,” then he will be right.

Because the statute of limitations on parental wars crimes done to me is up.

If I don’t find Power through God to FORGIVE and to change my responses, I will do to them, every inch of what was done to me and more.

‘Cause I know what was done to me.

I already paid for that.

I don’t want mine to pay too.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!