After my mom chose a different path for her life, I was able to still connect with a feminine presence in my life through my grandmothers, although for just a brief period of time. Both very different women from different socioeconomic upbringings, I would come to understand them too as I entered into my mature womanhood.
(As I mentioned in an earlier post, feminine wounds are generational and span across all lines of division among women, just in different packaging. One experience does not negate another, and we must learn to listen with our hearts to the stories and journeys of those who differ from our own.)
Their feminine influence and presence would be cut short as both of them passed on within a few short years. In our small family, it was left to the men to raise my older sister and I.
I was a little girl who craved a motherly and womanly presence in my life, all the while holding this deep belief that they would only disappear on me eventually, intentionally or not. A belief that would take a deep journey to untangle from my soul and release from my body.
Eventually, here and there, visits would resume with my Mom. Fractured at best, these were also pivotal, unstable times as her new life was just as unstable. She had a new husband, and I had new siblings. A mother of three new little ones, she did her best to be the mom she desired to be, the type of mom she wished she had (generational wounds).
But what can grow in a toxic environment? What can flower and bloom in constant fear and heartbreak? What she experienced in this marriage was a mirror to the abuse she experienced from her own mother as a girl. Looking back now, as a woman, Mom let me go out of protection from her own wounding. Understanding and embracing this truth, helped me in my own healing.
So many little moving parts to piece together, but all leading to the truth, all leading to reclaiming and restoring the scattered parts of my soul. My journey continues.