J's short visit home was mixed as these things always are for me. Expectations are never met on either side I think. We fall a bit short of what the other might have hoped for and yet there is comfort even within that flawed space. Like sunlight peeking through clouds and then sometimes the sky turning brilliant blue. We both wait for the flash of dazzling blue. Those moments always happen and I do remember them fondly for a long time. Yet, in everything that falls short in some way, I feel myself witnessing the failures of my motherhood.
Things that I should have tried harder on, not given up because I ran out of steam and found myself yielding to the stubbornness of a child who was adept at pushing my buttons tenaciously. If only I had been smarter and known to strike the right balance between not breaking her spirit and holding my ground where it mattered most. That time has long gone, the die is cast. I wish there was a different way for me to see what is in front of me instead of feeling crushed by the sense of failure brought upon by the endless misses and missteps. I wish I could also see the things I have done well even if not with the same blinding clarity.
Like my friend C says, I have yet to learn how to be kind to myself and forgive myself. Each time I see my kid, I realize how far away I am from that. This time was no different.
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