Genny (mom), Rick,
and sister Marge.
1949 (aprox.)

About the middle of my 45th year I had to face the fact that my psychological “bag” of unsightly past experiences (a rather large bag that was always in the way) contained a lot of anger toward my mom. When I was growing up my mom seemed to have a knack for attracting very abusive alcoholic men into our lives. There was one particularly angry fellow who managed to stay for years terrorizing the entire family.

To make a long story short, one evening while sorting through my “bag”, looking for things to discard (thought it might be good to lighten the load) I realized how angry I was that mom had allowed this abuse to herself and her children to go on for so many years. The anger came fully to the surface, I was so enraged that I called her on the phone:

“What’s the matter with you? A mother is supposed to protect her children!” I screamed into the phone. “Look at all the damage that has been done, not one of your children was ever able to get to high school, let alone have a chance to drop out . . . blah, blah, blah . . on I went, lambasting her for negligence on the highest order.

She let me rant and rave until I was spent, offering no defense, and then she said, “I didn’t know what else to do, or where to go for help. (This was the ’50s.) I was afraid you kids (there were 6 of us) wouldn’t have a home or enough to eat. I didn’t know where to turn, it seemed my only choice.”

That’s all it took, nothing else to say. In that moment I realized the enormous sacrifice she made for us all. I suspect she had other options, but at the time she didn’t know what they might be. She had tried the police, the courts, and social services, but in those days they were of little help. The experience moved me to a place of deep compassion for her and her suffering. From there it was just a tiny little step to total forgiveness. Ahhhhhhh, and it was good.

I now know what a courageous woman my mom was, and though she’s gone now, I still thank her often for all her love and support.

~Rick Nichols

Book of the Week

The Art of Forgiving
by Lewis B. Smedes

“When we forgive,” the author says, “we set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner we set free is us.”

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Dear Hearts,

Mother’s day is next Sunday. In contemplating Mother’s Day I thought about how many mothers and their children have difficult relationships (if any relationship at all). When you stop and think about it the mother/child relationship invites contention. There can be much to get angry about as mom prepares us for life in the big, wonderous world. Especially when we consider that she can only teach what she knows and that she was raised and conditioned by her parents who couldn’t even imagine the world of today.

And then of course there’s the environment. Even though we were a part of the family it is impossible for us to know the pressures and problems our parents had when they were raising us. They had to have had issues with money, work, health, marriage, education, the neighbors, politics, weeds, their children, and faulty plumbing. Sound familiar? It may be helpful for our judgments of mom and others to hold in mind the old Native American proverb, “Never judge a man (or mom) until you’ve walked a mile in his (or her) moccasins (combat boots).”

Now – if you happen to have issues with your mom and want to clear them up (I strongly recommend it), I gota warn you: my method of calling and then barking and growling like a rabid dog may not work for you. I got lucky, mom was more compassionate and understanding of me than I was of her. There are many ways to approach forgiveness. Our book of the week may be helpful in exploring ways that will work for you.

Maybe some day the Special Day Committee, or whoever does those kinds of things will proclaim an official “Offspring Day,” a day in which our parents might explore ways of forgiving us. It could be a great gift to us all.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Make it a great week

Love and blessings

Rick and Patricia

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