LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
How Do You Celebrate Mother's Day If Your Mother Isn't Speaking To You? |
by Patti Ellis |
Mother's Day is supposed to be a celebration but to many of us moms it's a reminder of how deeply we've failed our own children. And conversely, how profoundly our kids have disappointed us.
Each of us has our own story of how we became the "failed mother" or the "disappointing child." Some mothers have sons who marry outside their faith. Some mothers have daughters dating men outside their race. And some mothers, like me, have children who've told them they're gay. I felt like my son had betrayed my deepest-held moral, familial and religious principles. I anguished about what to do. I am a conservative Christian. How could I reconcile the teachings of my church with the love for my son? I couldn't. And with every passing day I could feel a greater distance passing between us. I thought about mothers who abandoned their grown children, simply cut them out of their lives for being gay, for seemingly turning away from the values and principles they spent their whole lives instilling in them. I thought about these "emotionally orphaned" adult children and what they must go through on Mother's Day. Would they buy cards that said, "Mom, Even Though You Refuse to Take My Calls I Still Love You?" Or worse, "Mom, Still Wishing You Well Even Though You Won't Open the Door When I Knock?" I was scared. I didn't want to be that kind of Mom. I didn't want to get that kind of Mother's Day card. I was as scared as one can be when society says you've failed as a mother. Fortunately, one thing scared me more than society's judgment of me-the possibility of losing my son forever to a world that was openly hostile to him. I recoiled at the idea of leaving my precious son "motherless" in the face of so many that could make his life miserable. I would not, could not, consider the idea of abandoning the son I cherished all these years, no matter how angry, ashamed or betrayed I felt. And I also would not, could not abide the idea that he would go through his life convinced he had disappointed me. I didn't want to receive a Mother's Day card that said, "Thanks, Mom, for Loving Me Even Though I Killed Your Hopes and Dreams for Me." I wanted something more, something bigger. I wanted a card that said, "Thanks, Mom for Loving and Accepting Me When No One Else Would." I was lucky. I found a way to heal the breach with my son and still keep my religious values intact. I descended into a darkness that frightened me. I looked for God in all the empty spaces in my heart. I turned my faith inside out. In the end, it was a re-affirmation of my religious principles that allowed a profound reconciliation with my son to take place. Whether a child dates someone outside their race, marries outside their faith, bears children out of wedlock, comes out of the closet, or simply repudiates the value of hard work and education, it can strain the relationship between mother and child to its breaking point. And it's exactly at that point that every mother has to make a decision about how to go forward. To most moms Mother's Day is simply a day they get affirmed by the kids they raised. But to a lot of moms with gay children it's not. It's the day they're reminded of the children they abandoned. To those of us who've had to journey through the stages of separation and alienation into forgiveness and acceptance, Mother's Day has an added dimension that has yet to be captured in gift cards. Maybe someday Hallmark will come up with a card reflecting the elemental story of reconciled love between mother and child. But until then, every mother who re-discovers unconditional love will have to receive a card written by their child's own sentiments. Patti Ellis is the mother of two sons. She is co-creator, with husband Jeff, of www.familyacceptance.com, a non-profit resource for parents struggling to accept their gay children. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 12, No. 05, May 17, 2002. |