My Inheritance

Yesterday, I got an envelope addressed by my sister, with my mother's initials as the return address. Inside were 4 items:

1. A printed card with a quote: "There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."

2. A printed slip of paper with some prayer ... I think it said something about St. Francis ... which was wrapped around

3. A one-dollar bill, folded twice

4. A two-sided photocopy (same on both sides), cut top and bottom with pinking shears. The text is in my mother's handwriting, and says, roughly "To my other children [and she names four of us], they have made their choice for their life, and for my life, and so I leave them each a token of $1.00 to make it legal. My mother-love is undying, and lives on for my children, my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren. Like the sunshine and the black velvet of night, it surrounds you and each raindrop that touches your skin is a kiss from me. God bless you all, Your mother"


And all I could think was -- huh. I'm glad I didn't make the effort to go see her. Apparently, she died as self-absorbed and self-centered as she lived ... which would explain why she didn't make any effort to close the gap between us (despite my efforts for the first many years).



And then I thought: what a mean and spiteful way to leave things. Petty, and mean, and spiteful ... and totally unnecessary.



And sad.



I'm okay ... I'm just mulling.



And hoping with all my heart that I inherited none of her pettiness (I have) or meanness (I have) or spitefulness (I have).



And, in the absence of any hope that I escaped that inheritance, I am relieved that I am certain I also have a sense of deep connection with those I love, a fierce protectiveness that would subordinate my own self-interest for the safety and security of my loved ones, and empathy and compassion, which my mother apparently completely lacked.



I will be working on mindfulness -- carefully extracting and mindfully highlighting for myself those characteristics I cherish about myself that may have had roots in my relationship with my mother. I need to separate the gems from the slag ... but right now it all just seems... very ... sad. And distant. Like it's not mine. Except to examine. Later.