On Being a Mother

My sons came home for the holidays. They always do regardless of where they are. I’m grateful for this. They are amazing men. They gave me the reason to mother them and so many others.

I was told from early on that the likelihood of me bearing children was minimal. The older I got the less the chances. So I showed the doctors that I don’t take no for an answer. I had Nelson at 20. Patrick at 22. Several miscarriages and lots of health issues didn’t stop me from bringing these two souls into this world.

We grew up together. I was a single mom for a long while with them. When I left their father he ran the opposite direction and never saw them again. We nurtured each other. We grew up learning the ins and outs of parenting.

These boys taught me unconditional love, patience, letting go, humor, and how to be a conscious soul through a very human experience. Their love for me and each other has been magical.

When I began adopting children they never complained. They opened up their hearts and shared their home with little strangers. My sons, not once, asked me to please stop. They never felt jealous or pushed aside. And even now with two little ones at home all I witness is unconditional love and tenderness. They are my heroes.

They go back home today. This mama heart is tender this morning. I will miss their pure intelligence and intellectual conversations. Their laughter. Their own banter that’s hysterical most of the time. I will miss their inspirational and motivational pep talks to me about how I need to be sharing more stories and creating a forum for the world to learn from One another. They are techie. I’m not and they show me this and that…sending loving thoughts while challenging me to think outside of my comfort zone.

My head starts to feel overwhelmed but they truly are looking out for my best interest.

You know when you recognize your job as a good parent? When your grown children want to come home and just be with you. I’ve done my best and they’ve exceeded any kind of desire I’ve had for them as adults. Happiness comes out in every laughter and tear. Every touch and hug reminds me that I’ve been so deeply blessed with love. True love without ever judging or criticizing my choices. And I have done the same for them.

Be gentle with your children. Allow them to do whatever they need to do in order to learn and evolve. It’s not our jobs to get in their way. Our only job is to be there to love. And love is all there is….

Letting Love Live

This morning I had a memory of the first time I was stung with uncensored and unconditional love. I’m sure I had hundreds, or perhaps thousands of moments, but that evening seemed to stand out loudly.

My husband and I had been dating for a few months. I spent the night at his place. We had made love and only a candle lit the room. He had fallen sleep on his stomach. I turned over and saw him. The light from the candle enhanced his back muscles. I gasped. He was beautiful. I looked at his bare back in pure delight. Tears formed and I allowed for their release. He was sound asleep. I became very aware that he was mine, for however long that would be, and he was lovely. Not just because of his body but his sense of humor. I was falling in love. I was falling into a known territory that felt remarkably unfamiliar to all others.

I traced my fingers on his back softly following the shadows. He woke and turned over to his side while I kept rubbing him with my nails. At some point I fell into a slumber wrapped by his arms. The next morning as I drove the hour and twenty minutes home, I kept thinking of that moment that allowed me to fall so profoundly that every cell in my body felt the expansion of love. I literally felt a huge break in my chest.

Then I started to freak out. I felt I was losing myself. How could I? I’ve done this dance many times before. I had given all of me for years and not been reciprocated but what amazing lessons I had learned. I regret not a one!

As I watched the stretch of mountains ahead my heart felt a tingle and a pull. I was safe to fall. I was safe to rise towards the delight of being me…my authentic self without censoring from a man. The sun was rising over the landscape and I knew I had permission from the heavens to just feel the love that was to grow. I remember this many years later. I remembered it this morning as I watched him sleep in his stomach bundled under warm blankets.

Driving over the mountains that morning I recalled twenty years before when I was dating a lovely man. After we made love I fell asleep in his arms. Sometime after that I woke to him watching me sleep and the blinds wide open. He said, “The moon looks beautiful on your back. It makes your freckles look like stars!” He meant every syllable of that sentiment.

I buried my head on the pillow in embarrassment. I had a hard time taking in any kind of compliment.

I had never been seen…Or so I felt. He saw me. And when he died a year later a part of me died with him. Now noticing my new lover and his divine essence naked in front of me I felt all the love in the world that had been given, shared and exchanged. I felt it intensified and released in my soul. It wasn’t just a physical or emotional connection. It was a spiritual one.

At midlife I was finally me without apologizing.

And I allowed for all that was to come. He was mine then. He continues to be mine now. It has taken a tremendous amount of work and dance to stay in that love but it’s been so worth it. Because that’s what marriage entails. We are on the other side of that mountain of uncertainty and doubts. We are led by stars and candlelight through the darkest of obstacles.

We are in it because of the raw vulnerability from one another. We show up not always in perfect lighting. It’s in the unmade beds, crazy sleepless nights with kids, messy days, hard obstacles, little moments and unconditional love without judgment. It’s real life naked and fully clothed behind closed doors. I’m blessed.


Many years ago…12 to be exact…I was experiencing a struggle with my eldest daughter. She arrived into my life at the age of 11-1/2 from Romania. And with her came a lot of secrets and demons. She suffered from multiple personalities and deep wounds. There was no way to reach her regardless of all the love and security I provided. At the age of 18, finishing high school, she plotted to hurt me and some other family members. The heartache those days was immense. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced up to that moment in my life.

My son’s friend’s mother came over to get him one day. I shared my struggle through tears and heartbreak. She took me aside (a woman who truly didn’t know me that well even though our boys were super close) and she shared a personal story about her eldest son. She told me, while holding me, that sometimes we had to let go in order to continue helping our other children. Up to that moment I didn’t know anyone who had undergone things that broke the mama heart that profoundly. Whether it was addiction, mental illness, or whatever…I had not known someone personally who was navigating through similar experiences.

I listened to her. She had been at this for years. I felt her own release in that conversation. I listened so much that, now 12 years later, I can still remember her words of wisdom. This woman just lost her son a few days ago. That said son who was struggling with his own demons. And as I write this I swear my heart breaks even deeper. A parent should never, ever, have to do what she’s had to do this week. I know he’s finally at peace. She does too but there is always the uncertainty of how much we did or didn’t do to fix and save our loved ones. The doubts creep up and we are consumed by the unknown of it all. It’s hard to decipher what is real and what is not. Guilt and shame are familiar emotions that push the grief up. It’s all part of healing and letting go.

I know without a shadow of a doubt, that when someone has these struggles the only thing you can do for them is hold space. The loss is inexplicable. It’s unreal and I cannot imagine how my friend is holding herself up this week. So I pray and send loving light to her and her family since she’s not near me (although I wish I was with her at the moment). I keep meditating and hold her heart in mine. No one knows what another endures…not what she had to do for her son, not what I’ve had to for my own children. We have little windows we show to the world, but behind closed doors and blinds the truth of it is quite different. I am blessed to have had her 12 years ago to help me navigate my own grief, shame and guilt because I was completely lost. I had to let my daughter go. I had to love her from afar and continue to do so daily because she refuses the love. In the end I had to put my energy into those in my house who were willing to receive the love and security. And it continues…

That’s all we are asked to do: love and serve those who receive it (who are willing to accept it). We can’t fix or help those who don’t want it. It’s like hitting yourself against a giant boulder while the ocean smashes against you over and over. It’s pure insanity.

I love you, my dear friend. You know who you are…you will always be the words of wisdom when I struggle through my own little demons of guilt for not doing more…. I am here!!!!!


This little bit of a person reminded me yesterday about independence and the constant weaving of holding on and letting go. We sat on my son’s porch waiting for them to get home. It was cold. I sat there listening to her tell me about the trees and how they are asleep. We talked about the clouds. We shared thoughts on dogs. And the entire time a cool crisp wind kept reminded me of change. She told me she was big now and didn’t need to be on my lap although I explained that I was cold and needed her warmth. Then she said I should have gotten a jacket at home. I laughed hard. My boys came home finding me giggling with the pure realization that motherhood seems to be the only job I can do with joy and laughter and so many other deep emotions. And in this job there is a flux of transformations always checking for giving and receiving, allowing and accepting, moving and staying put. I thought I was done with these lessons…and then this little bit came along to surprise the plans out of me!

Gifts of Love


I have been an avid student of all my children. Each one has taught me something I didn’t know I had in me, imagined I could do, would want to do, and so much more. My middle daughter’s mental challenges changed me. Her bipolar disorder also enriched my perceptions. I have been turned upside down, right-side up, yet enlightened in ways I can never express. Living with mental illness is a day to day wave and all you can do is surf it without restraints or expectations. When she arrived into my life at the age of 9 from Romania, I knew my life would never be the same. I have witnessed tenacity, perseverance, disorder, disarrangement, and complexity in myself. Our mirrors have reflected personal issues that I wouldn’t have addressed at other times in my life. I have been pushed to learn things of the human spirit I didn’t even know existed. She has taught me the meaning of unconditional love, surrendering, acceptance, forgiveness, grace and patience. I am not a patient person and she has been the button-pusher of constant reminding how much I can tolerate. I am always shocked by how much I can endure and where the lines are drawn.

My daughter, in her struggle for understanding while living with severe anger and mental disorders, has gifted me with the most precious experience of all. She has given me a child, my granddaughter, to raise again as a child of my own. I hope this seventh child will make the rest of this journey magical. This little girl has reshaped my reality. She has allowed me to throw all plans out the door. My daughter is very present inside of this little girl and I marvel at the preciousness of another generation teaching me more about life and myself. I am aware at this love that I wasn’t expecting in this time in middle years.

The mind is our most priceless commodity. It creates, modifies, regenerates, releases, and forces us to see past the boundaries of time and space. My daughter has taught me to love fiercely in a way that I didn’t know was available. She is not capable of understanding many of the issues that created the loss of permanency for raising her daughter. Her dissociative identity disorder does not permit her mind to see normalcy and stability. She will forever be stuck at 13 years of age. The older she gets the more noticeable it becomes. But, she’s taught me to see the exceptions to all the rules.

Recently while I held this two year old in my lap I told her what I say every day, “I love you, sweetheart.” She immediately responded as a matter of fact, “I know.”

My husband and I laughed out loud and she returned the giggles in exaggerated form. She has brought tremendous light into our home. I am grateful for this journey. I never imagined it in a million years. There are days I don’t think I will survive another childhood but then love is seen through the eyes of a sweet baby girl and I know that God is staring right at me. Who else is gonna join me to dance with tutus and tiaras? Who else will sit and listen to fairy tales and stories of unicorns and wizards? This journey is a pure gift of love!

Brotherly Love


If there is ever a doubt in my heart about how I’ve raised my kids I think the Universe allows me to witness firsthand the fruits of my labor.  Motherhood has never been easy.  Parenthood is one of those professions that have no real manual (at least I never got a copy). Each child is different and  guidance is specially designed to that soul.  We are melted and molded together in a kaleidoscope called family.

My eldest son was leaving yesterday back to NYC after spending 10 days here.  Even though he got to spend almost every evening with his brother who is 2 years younger, he still wanted to stop by his work one more time and say goodbye on the way to the airport.  It was pouring down rain.  He got out to see him at the hotel where he works.  His brother followed him back to the car to kiss me and say hello.  They stood in the rain once again, two brothers embracing and saying their “I love you’s.”


When I see that sibling love and respect it melts my heart.  They speak every day.  The older brother has always been the fatherly role to his brother. To witness their adulthood still close as little boys…well….it is heartwarming. With pride in my heart I take a tiny bit of credit for their closeness, always making sure they solved the rivalry and fights teenagers go through growing up.  I did what I could in spite of so many difficult factors and environmental stressors.  They are each others’ best friends.  The older they get the closer they become.

Once again I collect this moment as a beautiful one adding it to the many magical ones of motherhood.  Watching them stand close to each other and support their decisions, well what more can a mother ask for in this union?   They are pure love and light!

If you want to know (or have confirmations) of your parenting skills watch your children interact with one another or with others.  Manners, respect, love, and empathy are born from childhood.  Give yourself a huge pat on the back.  You got this.  You taught them well…and the rest has been the grace of God.

Pulling a Miracle


Our only car broke down yesterday down the mountain.  Matt was driving slowly when the right side ball joint came off.  Last year around this time the other side came off in a parking lot.  Both times the Divine has been with him in that he wasn’t driving fast or on the highway.  We are always taken care of in the way that suits our lessons and pushes the evolution of survival to expand in the awareness of God.  At the moment of the unfortunate event (and his growing agitation) I asked what I could do for him. His answer was, “Nothing. Unless you can pull a miracle out of your ass!”  And, so I sat at home and began to manifest a miracle.  Funny thing about miracles is that if you don’t specify what you are needing the Universe will give you another miracle that’s been in line waiting for the asking.

A few hours later my 19 year son, who left home a year and a half ago, called me.  He wanted to apologize for everything he ever did: the disrespect, the attitudes, the pushing away, the horrible things said about me, and the disregarding of my parenting authority.  We had not spoken in that time other than when he needed a specific paper or something for whatever he was trying to accomplish.  We had become two strangers.  I expressed to him, through heartfelt sobs, that he will forever be my son.  He needed to go off and find himself.  He needed to experience the rough edges of the world and return with scars from trying.  He needed to live out the illusions of freedom and what it returns when you aren’t careful in your decisions.  That’s the battle of youth entering adulthood.  There are lessons in letting go of our loved ones even when we know they may be hurt by their choices.  I obliged and respected his wishes to be left alone.  Not one day has passed that my prayers did not travel time and space to him.  We spoke for a short while.  I assured him that he could do anything he wanted to and that I would always be here because I was Mom.  I am proud that he is figuring things out.  This was a miracle in waiting.  It had been standing in line until I asked for it to come forward…”just a miracle” and no specifics.

There are nights I lay awake thinking about my six children. I am certain other parents go through the list of questions: What did I not do right? What could I have done differently? Will they look back and realize that love was always given in abundance? Will they have taken into adulthood the knowledge that material things don’t really matter? Questions gather and release. And, as I toss and turn, churning on the mattress, I come to listen to my inner guidance. I have done the best I could do under my limitations and capacity. People will always look inside glass houses, attempt to judge, criticize, and belittle. No one knows your path, the struggles along the way, the many times you had to bulldozed your way to the other side. These thoughts come and go during nights that sleep eludes me. And, then, another miracle appears: as daylight enters the room the Divine visits with assurance. I take deep breaths, thank the Universe for allowing me to redo all the wrongs, and continue learning. I go outside, sit on my deck and enter the church of nature. It is there that I find the peace to comfort my spirit and quiet the many unknowns. I am the best possible version of me and I whisper to God, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” I am whole again.

Asking for a miracle is allowing God to align your wishes with what you deserve.  It is a faithful act of letting go and releasing to the unknown.  It is in believing that we are entitled to the impossible.  Once you know and feel the awareness of illusion in that everything is okay the world opens up to your every desire.  We have no control of what can and will happen.  That’s the miracle.  As Lemony Snicket says, “Miracles are like pimples, because once you start looking for them you find more than you ever dreamed you’d see.”  Allow those little pimples to pop and show you the beauty of your wishful heart.

Composition of Love

love never failsThere’s a breaking point to everything.  Things begin to tip one way before returning to the center.  I hit a wall in the wee hours of a rainy morning a few weeks back.  I knew the calling had to be answered.  You want to get to know yourself?  Go off the media, news, computer, and any distraction.  There is a moment of discomfort that can lasts for days. Once you pass the hump of ego bitching you out you get to enter a place of humility.  It isn’t for the quitters.  It isn’t for the faint at heart.  It can be ugly, nasty, painful and full of emotional crap you never want to examine.  But, I promise that once you leave the comfort zone the world changes.  Hide for a bit, detach from others, and find solitude in moments of weakness and distress.  It’s okay.  It is always okay.  When you get to where you are going it is full of clarity and love. “Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.”

On this particular night I made a choice to give myself some days off everything.  I would not eat meat or sugars during this time.  Every time I’ve done this (a few times a year) a huge blessing arrives with a complete understand of why my spiritual body urges me to do this for my physical and emotional parts.  As days began to unfold with the bitter taste of headaches, discomfort and other emotions the main issue stood in front of me.  This time it was about parenting.   Being a parent sucks at times.  I don’t know what to say or how to say it eloquently but as parents we go through the roller coaster of memories: those of the past and of the present.  We live every beginning simultaneously with an ending.

Sometimes love is the most difficult emotion of all.  The love for the self is always a struggle, especially for the caregivers.  Have I been consciously aware of all the mistakes?  Will I continue to make them again?  I can’t answer questions about the future.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that in the midst of a spring night my thoughts gathered in my chest, instead of my head, and dictated the doubts, anxiety, sadness, and confusion that in waking moments I don’t feel.  It’s as if the devil himself shows up to torture me.  Ego is his name!

Life has a way of entertaining me.  I don’t always need the many days I commit to take as a regimen.  The moment I begin the ritual God begins to show presence.  It’s as if love appears through everything I touch.  The composition of love has many layers: grace, attachment, charity, approval, adoration, recognition, passion, unity, forgiveness, letting go, spirituality, physical, devotion, and faith.  These are of course my colors for this painting I get to call MY LIFE.  I want to return to allowing love to raise me up; to perfect me to the best of me; to turn me inside and out with joy.  I don’t want to let the hurt I’ve felt through betrayal to stop this growth: physically, emotionally or spiritually.  I wear my heart on my sleeves for anyone to grab and own.  I don’t like feeling this wall of protection.  What I give out returns in abundance!  The forty days I planned on taking shorten the minute I begin to understand what was coming.

I have always said that my children have raised me into a human being of diversity.  They have been the cause of what and who I am today.  I am grateful for each one and their lessons.  This is the hard part of being a mother…totally entrusting and allowing.  It’s not easy.  For those who aren’t parents this seems so silly in nature.  It isn’t until you are responsible solely for another that you can embrace the capacity and limitations of your heart.  Having relationships or any other form of unity with another doesn’t compare to the conscious movement of mind and heart wrestling at all times for the welfare of a child (regardless of their age).  On a conscious level I am aware that we all come into this life on a journey full of lessons and experiences.  On an ego/human level I want to be the one to guide them.  It isn’t so.  Once I decided to stop the egotistical chit chat I was free of all expectations.  However, when one or two or three of these children hurt me within a short period of time, not trying to take it personally is really hard.  I am their common denominator.  I am the one who they are pushing away, pulling when they need to, and discarding when they are done.  The “not taking it personally” really is maddening.

So what I learned through two weeks of truly allowing is not to take things personally.  What others think of me is really none of my business…ever!  Love, unconditional or not, is the reason we exist.  In the process of all this detoxification we have a bundle of joy in our possession.  It isn’t an easy road ahead but nothing that is of magnitude, faith and love ever is.  We strive for stability.  God has answered through blessings and whispers.  At times the whispers have turned to opera status.  I get it.  I understand the lessons.

Listen to your inner voice.  Pay attention to the whispers.  I try not to discuss my spiritual growth or lay do’s and do-not’s upon anyone.  This is mine to master until my last breath.  I have no answers to what happens to anyone else.  I only know what Spirit guides me to do.  Second guessing myself is definitely a no-no.  Sit still and listen to yours.  We can accomplish anything and everything when we allow God to lead us. Love never fails because it is the composition of the Divine.

The Hardest Job in the World

kidsOf all the jobs I’ve had in this lifetime the most difficult one (by far) has been motherhood.  I have worn many hats throughout the years from kissing booboo’s to holding the hand of a little one while in a hospital bed.  My children have challenged by intelligence, freedom, choices, and perceptions a million times over.  They have taught me how to be compassionate when I’ve wanted to snap.  They have taught me patience when I wanted to fix things immediately.  They have taught me to pick battles from one moment to the next.  Indeed, the most challenging job in the world is parenthood.  The FBI has nothing on motherhood.  It is M.B.I. (Mother Bureau of Investigation) and it requires being on-call 24/7.

I love hearing from other parents who have small rambunctious children.  They make the comments, “Thank God it gets easier as they get older.”  I laugh.  I used to think like that as well.  It DOES NOT get easier.  It gets productively more challenging with every passing year.  The more intelligence and scheming they acquire the more you are being pushed to test your parental skills.  Some days my IQ drops several points.  Other times I feel like Albert Einstein.

The hardest task as a mother is letting go while standing your ground.  Boundaries are never easy.  Kids will test, pull and push them to no avail.  One day I am the best mom in the world.  The next, I am the worst parent out there.  It comes with the territory.  I’m not here to be liked.  I am here to support, love, and have a safe haven for them to return when the world comes down on them.  They don’t need another BFF.  They need a parent to hold their hand when they hurt.  They need a shoulder to cry and be heard.  As I say around here, “You need a shower and a good meal.  Everything’s gonna be alright.”  I am here for the long haul with a great bathroom and a home-cooked meal.

Children are a breed of their own.  I believe that around twelve years of age (especially boys) a spaceship comes in the middle of the night, swaps your child with an alien and you don’t see him until around eighteen.  I can recall with most of my kids when they turned seventeen or eighteen standing in the middle of a conversation and saying, “Ahhhh, you are back, my child!  I’ve missed you so much.”  Just like that they return to being pretty normal.  They begin to hug and kiss and converse with you like no time has passed.

I woke today with heaviness about being a good mother.  This week has started out rather challenging.  It’s okay.  I get the ups and downs of this job.  I understand the rejections, avoidance, blame game, and so on.  I comprehend the state of hormonal imbalance passing through a teenager.  I also get that “mom’s not always right!”  What do I know?  I am living on top of a mountain escaping from the real world.  I also know that I shut down and don’t speak for days when I feel judged or ridiculed by my children.  The pain is never easy.  This is part of investing time in making sure they are safe.   It only takes a laugh to get me back to normal.  I just require some time to let ego take a backseat to the stupidity of an event.  I am always questioning my sanity, but I’m still here.

With each passing year (and child) I am learning that love is beyond reason.  It is a boomerang that returns time and time again when they need it.  Ultimately, I am their mother.  They might not like my rules or my opinions but they all know I am here for them.  They also know I give them the space needed to experience life through their own eyes.  I don’t have all the answers.  I only have one for sure:  I love them more than anything in the world.  They might not like me from time to time but unconditional love has passed on to them.  Witnessing the way they love others is the best return on this investment I could have ever imagined.  This makes motherhood priceless!