March has been a difficult month for me, since my mother passed away at this time–many years ago. It took me a few years to identify this pattern. Once it became clear, I could look at it. Perform a memorial for her. Write something. Have a commemorative meal. This year I choose to do something different, I choose to forgive. Forgive myself for not attaining the dreams my mother had for me, her dreams that she forced on me. Forgive her for a lack of sympathy, a lack of understanding who I was.
My mother’s love was precious to me. My life was nearly destroyed when I lost her, I was in my young 20’s, making my way as a young adult working in the real world. I was rebelling, distancing myself from her. To lose my mother during that fragile period of individuation threw me. For years I was lost, clinging to anyone who offered comfort and a sense of connection. Of course no one ever replaces the first person who loves you.
This month I think of my mother, her powerful love, and my future. A future filled with love and compassion for myself. This is her legacy.