August 29, 2010

My mother, not myself

This is the day my mom was born. I've read enough history to know that Stalin imposed a famine on the area where her family lived, and she was born just as the famine ended.

The incredible stress of those times and the lack of good food may have been contributing factors to her BPD. I also feel compassion for the fact that she lost her father during the second World War.

But I mostly feel compassion for myself, for trying to fix something that was never in my power to fix. I am glad to turn this over to God to heal. By God's grace I do not think I have her dis-ease. I've chosen not to stand in front of her fun house mirrors any more, that exaggerate my shortcomings.

My mother's birthday, I thank her for life. Happiness is my legacy to build from the life I was given.

1 comment:

  1. I am glad that you remember your mother and yourself with compassion. I didn't inherit (so far) my mother's depression. I am grateful. Nice to still love the one who gave me birth.


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