Through My Mother’s Eyes


This post is dedicated to my children – Candy, Bonnie, Susan and John.  Forgive me for all the times I looked at you and failed to see your worth.  Not because of any lacking in you, but because of the emotional stuff I carry that got in the way of my love for you.   Please forgive me and know that in my heart of hearts you have never been anything less than totally loved, totally accepted and totally adored, but somewhere between my heart and my eyes was a lot of baggage that had yet to be unpacked.  Even still some that needs to be unpacked.

It is also dedicated to all of us who seemed to have fallen short of our mother’s adoration.  For those of us, who through no failing of our own,  weren’t seen the way our heart longed for us to be seen by our mothers.

I had a dream one night.  In this dream, I woke up to find  a woman sitting in a chair by my bed.  She had been watching me sleep, for how long, I don’t know.  She was looking at me with total love and adoration in her eyes.  Her face radiated with pride.  I felt the love she felt; it was almost palpable.   But I was puzzled as I didn’t know who this woman was.  She looked familiar but I couldn’t place her.

She looked like my mother but I knew she wasn’t my mother.  So I looked carefully, thinking she might be my mother’s sister.  There was a family resemblance there for sure.  But I knew somehow she wasn’t my aunt.  Then I considered that she might be their mother, my grandmother Scott.  I knew, though, somehow, that she wasn’t my grandmother.

I studied her and wondered who she was but I never asked.  I glanced away and when I looked again, I recognized her finally; I knew she was my mother.

My mother sitting there watching me sleep, looking at me with love and adoration and pride. 

My mother? 

I was totally puzzled by this. 

Why wouldn’t I have recognized my own mother? 

Then I knew the answer. 

My mother never looked at me that way when I was growing up. 

I never saw that kind of love in her eyes when she looked at me.

At the time of this dream, my mother was in heaven.  She was healed of all the stuff that got in the way of seeing me the way her heart saw me.  All those years of believing the lacking was in me and that I was fundamentally flawed in some way; some way so big that my own mother couldn’t see past the flaws and see me.  Me. But now, in heaven, with a heart that is healed and emotional baggage that has been unpacked and removed, my mother can look at me through eyes of love and adoration and pride, something she couldn’t do while here on earth.

Heaven has so many things in store for us too wonderful to even imagine.  Among those is the opportunity to be with those who love us with nothing between us.  No hurt, no pain, no regrets, no fears, no insecurities, no emotional baggage, no unhealed stuff. Nothing but love.  Total, complete, unconditional love, acceptance and adoration.  What joy that will be!



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