The other day I attended a funeral. The service was held in the same cemetery where my parents are buried. I brought along my book. I thought I’d show it to my parents as I stood over their graves. I imagined they could see me.
It’s been a year and a half since my mother’s death, and I am still trying to define the relationship I had with her. At times I’ve wondered if I’ve unfairly portrayed her. I’ve often compared her to the Wicked Witch. Yet that’s not a complete picture of who she was. What made it hard to be her child was her criticism, disapproval, and my constant longing for her to love me back. She never made me feel like I was good enough.
But as my oldest daughter pointed out, my mother thought of me as an extension of herself. My mother would criticize the way I looked. I embarrassed her. But she also tried to be a good mother. She read to me, served meals, and tucked me into bed. Would she be proud of me or embarrassed by the unflattering things I said about her in the book? I choose to believe she would understand.
Here’s an excerpt:
“You’re not going to eat those, are you?”
“No, Mom. It’s for Alia. She tumbled during the piñata activity. I thought I’d hide some in the grass to find when everyone leaves.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Mom pursed her lips.
“You’re supposed to get what you want on your birthday, aren’t you?”
“Whoever gave you that idea?”
“Why you did, Mom. You made the biggest deal about my fifth birthday. Remember what happened when I opened that gift with the sparkly red majorette costume?”
“Yes, I remember. You abandoned everyone in the middle of the party to go put it on.” My mother frowned and made a tsk-tsk sound. “I felt so embarrassed.”
“Oh Mom, give me a break. It was the best birthday party I ever had. You made it extraordinary.” I shook my head in confusion. “Why else did you make such a big deal about that party if you didn’t want me to be happy at it?”
“Because I never had a party like that when I was a child,” she snapped. “My parents were too poor. But I should have known better. Look what happened to you. It’s time to grow up. You’re too old to believe in fairy tales.”
Too hurt to speak, I stared at her as she lifted a whimpering Jessica from the seat.
“I’ve watched Jessica for over an hour, so can you take her now? She’s getting fussy.”
I placed the bag on the table and gathered Jessica into my arms. Her cries intensified, her tiny fists like balled lumps of clay, and glared at my mother.
Why? Why can’t you be different? Why do you always make me feel like a failure? I was raised in a home where demonstrations of love were practically absent, and the practice of shaming was the norm, so self-criticism became my default way of coping. It would be years before I became aware of these unconscious habits.
Although my mother is dead and gone, I am left with the residual effects. The echo of longing for recognition spans my lifetime. I never felt ‘good enough’ and that influenced me when raising my children. While Jessica’s diagnosis instigated a shift in my consciousness, I still grappled with the question of worthiness. So did my book finally make me worthy?
This question laid the foundation for my next book, where I will explore what happens between mothers and daughters, throughout the generations. Part truth, part fiction.
If you didn’t get your copy of “The Shape of Normal, A Memoir of Motherhood, Disabilities, and Embracing a Different Kind of Perfect,” here’s a link:
https://www.vineleavespress.com/the-shape-of-normal-by-catherine-shields.html
and if you already read it, please leave a review on Amazon. Here’s the link:
Help me promote Developmental Disabilities Awareness Month.
March is Disability Awareness Month. As we commemorate it, I want to reaffirm our commitment to creating a more inclusive and compassionate world for individuals of all abilities. Let's embrace the power of empathy, understanding, and advocacy to effect positive change in our communities.
I learned many lessons from raising a child with a disability. My experience taught me that we’re all part of a broad spectrum of intellectual and physical functioning. Hopefully, my book will serve as a powerful reminder to foster inclusivity, understanding, and support within our communities; to be more empathetic, and to be reminded of the challenges we face in our own lives, regardless of our I.Q. or diagnosis.
On to the next bit of news - I’ve been busy promoting my book. and was invited to speak in honor of JDAIM - Jewish Disability Awareness & Inclusion Month. I was recently a guest on this inspiring podcast with Jessica Fein and talked about my mother’s influence.
It’s one of my best interviews yet. At least I thought so!
https://podcasts.apple.com/.../from-self.../id1668168226 - From Self Deception to Celebration, A Mother's Journey, with Cathy Shields
Lastly, they say not to judge a book by its cover but I need you to do just that. If you liked the cover of my book, The Shape of Normal: A Memoir of Motherhood, Disability and Embracing a Different Kind of Perfect, please vote for it for the Cover of the Month contest on AllAuthor.com!
Please take a short moment to vote for my book cover here: Click to .
Grateful!
Beautiful and vulnerable post, my friend! I think you portray your mom with honesty and love.
Thank you for your honesty and openness Cathy. It sure seems to me that many of us are trying evolve our families toward better… as parents and children.
In a touch of synchronicity… I painted and shared an image of a girl with a baton today.
How cool is that?!