“Be kind to your parents, for while you are busy growing up, they are also growing old.”

As if by divine intervention, the word hit me once more. A confirmation foretold. A welcomed cue. The writing prompt presented before me this particular week was “Questions.” Why is this significant? Well, if you’ve been journeying along with me  lately you’ll know, the title “Enough with the Secrets Mama!” is front and center of what will be my debut writing project to the world. And boy did I have questions for my mother.

It is a biographical depiction of what it’s like to be the daughter of a matriarch. The rises, the falls, the challenges, and the triumphs. All rolled into one emotional work of literary art. If you read my previous blog announcement you’d know the book itself is a real life immigrant story of a Dominican woman and her daughters as they find their way in the land of opportunity. Though most of all it’s a penned letter to myself. Giving myself grace for all the times I thought I wasn’t good enough within this maternal relationship. 

And so, without giving too much away, having received this writing prompt, it was a no-brainer. What a perfect way to share with the world through this piece how these secrets impacted me, through the eyes of my child-centered self. A prelude if you will. I sense many of you would relate. But more than that, it grants me the rare opportunity to acknowledge this full circle moment. From where we were, to where we currently stand. 

I present to you: Full Circle

Mother has kept many secrets. Secrets beyond what we’d ever comprehend. Dare we ever ask any questions. Our cultural influence promoted the, “you should know better” attitude. We were bred that way. Ever faced with the desire to inquire about even the slightest thing, her eyes pierced our soul and her smirk was enough to encourage us to do just as we were told. “Be seen and not heard!” She’d say. 

Yet, there were just so many questions. Like, how did we get here? How long will we stay? Are YOU happy here? Should WE be happy too? What happened to our family? Will we see them again? What about our brother? Why does he stumble all bruised and battered? Should we just stay out of the way? Yes, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll just be invisible. I’ll be invisible.

Surely you have all the answers. Will you ever draw the curtains enough to let us peek into your soul? I see the sadness in your eyes. Can I still not probe? Nope. I’ll just bow my head and back my way out of the room just as silently as I entered.  

Growing up with a matriarch of a mother was excruciatingly painful. This title that preceded her also afforded us some privileges. Yet, that title would soon be the catalyst for her weakness. Over the years, we saw the strength of a woman deteriorate before our very eyes. She was beyond reproach. All we could do was bow our heads and process silently. Surely, she’s fine right? Yes. Of course she’s fine. She always is. And us? Will we be fine too? Yes, of course we will. 

Life in the shadows of a strong, stubborn, prideful, and independent woman can be lonely. There’s nothing you can do or say that will ever overshadow the knowledge she’s acquired with every passing year. The things she’s seen. The things she’s heard. Her negative experiences had led her front and center in that overpopulated classroom of the school of life. A true class act she’d be.

And then, in a twist of fate, she was free. We watched from a distance and we saw them.  The signs. The cracked doors led to open doors. Glimpses of twinkling glitter showed signs of hope. Like little white marbled sparkly pebbles that marked our path to enlightenment. Yes. Those glistening pebbles were our guide to those answers afterall. The age of “maturity” we’ll call it. Comes with its share of benefits.

NOW? Now, she regurgitates the secrets. It’s like watching our lives play in reverse. All the things she’d kept inside she now finds comfort in sharing. Some secrets, too difficult to hear. Others, evoke all the angry emotions. And the ones that prompt the unending laughter? Let’s hear those again, mother. 

Let’s just say I’m glad she’s set herself free. Maybe it’s that she knows she has fewer exciting things happening for her these days? Maybe it’s the need to relive those days of old. The hump in her back and the slow in her walk are signs of aging she’d now endure. The inevitable has reared its ugly head. A welcomed golden age experience nonetheless. Not that she’d have any choice in the matter. 

So, today,  I’ll sit right here, by her side, in our matching mahogany rocking chairs. Swaying back and forth. I, dancing on each word she releases, as excited as she is to share them.

There’s a quote by an unknown author that reads, “We grow up thinking our parents don’t understand our struggles, but truth is they made sure we never felt theirs.” And yes, I felt that. This blog post is dedicated to the “age in place baby-boomers” and their caregivers. May we address our parents in terms of honor, and lower unto them the wing of submission through mercy. (The Quran 17: 23-25)

As always, I hope this message has encouraged you. To live your life to the best of your ability. To shine brighter each day and be your best self.  Yours truly. – Lin Green