My mother and me
Have you ever had a day that feels perfect? You know the one where you wake up on the right side of the bed. You're feeling great, smiling as you brush your teeth, singing while making your breakfast. Not even your 8 am meeting can get you down.
I was having one of those days. My mother—who has been staying with me for the past month—seemed to have been having the opposite day. Barely even responding to my "Good morning." A huge scowl on her face and just obviously over the morning. I was having a wonderful morning, so I was oblivious to her energy. I was determined not to have anything ruin this day. I smiled when she scowled and kept my energy vibrant when she barely responded to me.
Around noon, it was time to make my signature oolong tea with a dash of honey and ginger syrup to give me the extra kick for the day. I strolled over to the kitchen, where my mom had just finished eating, and left her dishes in the sink. I poured my tea, which came out perfect, just like the day I was having. As I drank, I took a moment to myself. The tea flowed nicely, and as it hit my stomach, I could feel the warmth spread through my body. After finishing my tea, I dropped the mug into the sink next to my mother's dirty dishes, intending on washing everything after my 12:30 meeting. As I made my way out of the kitchen, my mother walked into the kitchen.
Before I could turn the corner, she yelled, "Why are you like this? Can't you ever do anything for me? You couldn't wash the dishes?" I just had a great cup of tea to match the great day I was having, and nothing was going to ruin my mood. I said, with a soft and compliant tone, "My meeting starts in two minutes; I'll wash them right after In Shaa Allah." She responded, "People everywhere do stuff for me, without even asking, but with you, I always have to tell you. Just because I'm staying at your house doesn't mean you can treat me like anyone." Confused and trying to understand how this escalated so quickly, I said, "It has nothing to do with being at my house, mommy. I have to jump on my meeting. I'll wash the dishes right after I'm done." And right after I said that a huge cloud hovered over me as I turned the corner and walked away. My energy felt off. The high from my perfect tea faded, and negativity loomed.
As I was halfway between the kitchen and the bedroom, my mom said, "You know, besides the money you give me, you don't do anything for me. You don't bring me peace."
And like that, my perfect day went completely out the window. Those words felt like a knife in my heart. Twenty-two years of emotional trauma, sadness, and pain took over my entire body. Empty and silent, I continued walking back to the room. In the room, before sitting down, I joined the meeting, turned off my camera, and muted myself. The moment I sat down, all of my emotions hit me at once. I felt sad, disappointed, and defeated. Thinking about how I am never enough for my mother. The days I spent waiting for her to come home at 1 am flashed in my head. Senior night came to mind, watching all my friends on the basketball team receive plaques and flowers with their parents while mine was nowhere to be found. Never hearing my mom say "I'm proud of you" for any accomplishment came to mind. That thirty minutes meeting felt like a lifetime, just going through all these emotions.
This year, I'll turn 28, and of those twenty-eight years, I only lived with my mom for six of them. Even when we lived together, I barely saw her. She worked from 7 am to 12 am most days. She left for work while I'm asleep, and by the time she came back, I'm already in bed. She always supported me financially, despite our circumstances. She made sure I always had clothes on my back. She made sure I always had a place to sleep. She always did her best to put food on the table. I am forever grateful for her sacrifices. But because of all the sacrifices she made and their time commitments, we could never build a strong relationship with open communication. Emotional affection between my mother and me was non-existent.
So when she said, "You know, besides the money you give me, you don't do anything for me. You don't bring me peace." It opened the door to all these emotions and thoughts that I shoved deep down. I never knew these things affected me so much until she said those words; how I resented her for her absence in my life or craved hearing her say she's proud of me. I shrugged this off for years believing that her acts alone were enough. I thought I was okay, but I wasn't.
After the meeting, I walked back to the kitchen to clean the dishes. As I began washing the dishes, she apologized in her own way. "I was just mad, you know, sometimes I just wish things were different." Usually, I would accept the statement and move on, but that day I couldn't. I had to let her know how I truly felt. So as I finished washing the dishes, I asked her if I could share.
I said, "Mommy, you said I only bring you peace with the money I give you and nothing else. But Mommy, that's all you've shown me my whole life …" I began going into all of the thoughts and emotions in the 30 minutes after she said those words. She also shared her perspective. She mentioned my father's passing, how it affected her, and how she's never been the same. It was really emotional and hard to experience but beautiful to be a part of. We both walked away with a better understanding of each other and the type of person we need to be for each other.
After our conversation, I felt lighter, seen, and heard. I was exhausted from the emotional onslaught, but my heart was smiling. For the first time in my life, I felt like I understood my mother, and she understood me. I also realized that I needed therapy, something that I considered for six years but never truly committed to understanding why until that conversation. To be the best son, brother, husband, and father that I can be, I need to continue this journey of healing.
Understanding the man I want to be as I enter a new chapter in my life has caused me to reevaluate and assess the man I am now. Constantly looking at areas where I may have hidden secret thoughts or emotions under the guise of well-meaning intentions either from myself or those around me. I'm learning that as a parent, it's not enough to provide for your family financially. You must be present and monitor the emotional well-being of your kids. I'm learning that an open communication line between parents and their child could help avoid many things. I'm putting myself in a position where I openly and honestly keep others' experiences in mind before and while I act on my own emotions. As I journey, I invite my loved ones to continue to challenge, inspire, and educate me.
Like Sway, I don't have the answers, but I'm open to continuing the search to find them.
