Twofer: The Other Mothers and Drive-by Goodbye

I've been thinking a lot, lately, about tribes.  

Well, I've been thinking a lot about a lot of things lately.  I am, we are, moving at the end of the month.  To another house, another city, another country.  A place for which I have so much hope... but also some trepidation... and certainly no tribe.  At least not yet.  

Tribes don't happen overnight.  

Nor do friends, nor families- neither the ones we make nor the ones we chose.  

Over a lifetime I have cultivated a few precious connections that mean very much to me.  People and relationships without whom or which I would have floundered, drowned in my own head.  For this Mother's Day, I thought I'd shout a few of those out.  

Without further ado:

My (Mom) Tribe- 

To the Irish mum who knew me long before either one of us were mums- I cannot wait to see you.  Thank you for the countless glasses of wine we've shared.  Thank you for the countless hours of conversation; the countless hugs, the tears, more hugs, and deep love.  Thank you for yelling at me.  Thank you for caring enough to yell at me.  I literally cannot wait to see you.  

To the mom who is always up for a run (when schedules, husbands, and sons allow it)- you are an invaluable gem.  The miles of sweating, bitching, laughing, commiserating and planning have kept me saner than you can possibly imagine.  The stolen 20 minutes here, an hour there, have indeed kept me sane. 

To the moms who have littles who I've yet to meet- I am eager and terribly excited to meet them and laugh with you and reconnect and marvel at these little kingdoms we are building.  We are actually the architects of chaos.  

To the mom two doors down- just two doors down?  If only you knew how many times you have carried me from just there... or from across the ocean.  You have been the hand at my back, my prop, my sounding board on more occasions than I can name.  More than that, you have shared your family with mine.  You have put up with my dogs, my baking, my apparently endless chatter.  You are my hero.  

To the mom I don't really know yet but who I know I want to know so much better... if that makes any sense at all.  You are my impromptu, unexpected training buddy at a time when I didn't know I needed one but absolutely wanted one.  You are the person that my husband recently identified as "oh- she's just like you."  

To the moms from whom I've drifted- we've drifted.  And the moms I don't know as well as I should... the moms I nod or wave to; the moms who make plans that never really pan out (mostly for me, mostly because I'm a homebody, mostly because having a baby and a husband with stage four cancer during a pandemic left deeper scars than I casually reveal)... you're still on my mind.  

Happy Mother's Day to the lot of you.  And to all the other mothers out there.  The work of motherhood is tough and oftentimes feels lonely and obsolete.  You are neither alone nor obsolete.  I see you, I feel you, I hear you, I am you.  

And to my own mom- the original matriarch of the tribe- and to the grand- great grand- great great grand, etc. mothers who came before.  You are all a part of me.  You are all a part of us.  Who we, as young (or maybe not so young) mothers, are is tied to who you, as hardened vets, were.  Who I am as a person, a woman, a mother, is intrinsically tied to my mom.  Who raised her, how she was raised, how they were raised and so on and so forth.  Because that is the thing about tribes.  They go back and forth- backward in time and forward with the inevitable passing of one season to the next.    

And there you go- and there we go-

I am notoriously bad at goodbyes.  I will make jokes until the bitter end and then hide in the bathroom so I can cry quietly. Or sob without guile or care for puffy eyes, snot, or stuttered breathing.  Keep that in mind over the next few weeks.  To those with whom I am parting, my heart hurts and aches to take you with me onto more and more adventures.  To those with whom I am meeting, you bring me peace and anticipation and a sense of rightness.  

Here's to all of you, all of us, all the days behind us and all of those ahead.  

Here's to it all.  

Tchau. 

Xx.