Words

The Best Words I ever heard…

“Do your best.” My mother said this to me a million times when I was growing up.
“Did you do your best?” My mother asked me this whenever I came home with a low grade feeling horrible. If I could answer yes she would re-assure me nothing else was required or expected. I did not need to get an A or finish first in a race. I was just supposed to do “my best.” But I never really knew what my “best” was, and I am still not sure. I was not nearly as kind and accepting of her as she was of me. I was always demanding more from her. I never let her simply “be” the way she let me “be”. Her “best” wasn’t good enough for me when I was growing up. I guess that is the true tragedy of all of this silence surrounding my mind. I did not know her best was so unbelievably better than I could ever have imagined. While I was busy criticizing her weight, how old she was compared to the other mothers, her lack of attention to my many childhood needs, she was overcoming the grief of losing her oldest sister who was more like a mother to her, her husband, the sole financial provider in our home, and her own mother, who she cared for with an unsurpassed dedication and loyalty. I silently accused her of treading water instead of swimming across life’s ocean and reaching the shore where I was so sure the goose with the golden egg was waiting for us. She had to endure the unexpected deaths of her entire support system in less than 3 years. I did not realize then, she was moving forward. The increments may have been too small for my still developing brain to detect, but suddenly now I see how very far she really went. Her movements were not just forward, but up, way up. She learned to manage a building, while guiding my brothers and I through High School and then college. She did all that while re-building her own life, making new friends, traveling and volunteering.

She did “her best” and I had no idea what that meant. I only knew I was in hand me down clothes and sharing a bedroom with my mother while my friends either had their own bedrooms or shared with siblings, had Barbie Dolls galore, wore pretty clothes and rode fancy bicycles. I refused to listen and I refused to believe, but now I want to listen and there is only silence. Finally I believe, I believe with every inch of my being. My mother did her best, and her best was unbelievably better than anyone could have imagined. As I grabble with her death one memory keeps resurfacing, struggling for air before being sucked back down by the waves of reality.

My mother was turning 60 and her brother threw her a birthday party in his home. I was 20 at the time, still in college. I remember feeling a little angry that my brother and I were being treated like “guests” instead of hosts. We were her kids, and we were the ones who should have been giving the party. But looking back I can see how childish my jealousy was. That evening I sat next to Bernice, her best friend. They were serving wine and I managed to get a few glasses. I remember my brother and I had bought Becky a fancy ring. He paid for most of it. I was just along for the ride, but we wanted everyone to know Becky’s kids were good kids who cared about her as much as they did. You see, it was hard having a mom everyone else always raved about how wonderful she was and what a difficult life she had and how it was our job as her kids to make life easier for her. The way some of the adults in our life talked to us, it often sounded like we were adding to her troubles instead of helping ease them. It was just another thing for me to resent. After all, I had lost an Aunt who I loved and with whom I spent every weekend, a father who worshipped only me, and my only grandparent. I grew up wondering “what about me, my pain, my grief, my losses?” I lost sight of my mother and what she was doing.

But my mother never lost sight of her goals, her children and where we were all heading. She kept her eye “on the prize.” Even though I was drinking I can clearly remember Bernice leaning over and saying to me… “Your mother is remarkable. Someday you will realize just how difficult it has been for her and what an incredible job she is doing.” I looked across the table at my mother and saw her smiling. She had learned to laugh and smile again and she was never going to stop loving life no matter how hard it got. My mother and Bernice had an unusually close bond and our entire family benefited from the intense love and friendship they shared. It will be just one more thing I have come to realize over the years. After everything my mother has given me, all I have to give back are a bunch of words. Did I do “my best” for her while she was here? I don’t know. I am not even sure I can find all the right words to fill the empty spaces between the letters, the lines and the distance that now exists between my mother and my self.

I know it sounds so crazy, but of all the songs I keep thinking about that remind me of my mother there is a love song written by the Bee Gees that is the one I feel most appropriately describes how I feel right now:

Words:

Smile an everlasting smile
A smile could bring you near to me
Don't ever let me find you gone
'Cause that would bring a tear to me
This world has lost it's glory
Let's start a brand new story
Now my love right now there'll be
No other time and I can show you
How my love
Talk in everlasting words
And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I'm here if you should call to me
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away
It's only words, and words are all
I have to take your heart away