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May 9, 2006
Mother's Day I
There is a remarkable selfishness to youth. It is true we are a selfish bunch of beings throughout our lives, but in youth it is particularly hightlighted. In fact, perhaps one way of looking at development is viewing it as a process in which I become increasingly aware that others exist who are not me, that they are interesting and important, and that I have responsibilities toward them. In this view, the selfishness of youth is normal and appropriate, at least to some degree. It does mean, though, that we may miss out on knowing some pretty amazing things about the world and the people around us because we are simply not paying attention, we may not have the psychological or moral equipment to do so.
If we are lucky, we may get a chance to get to know, say, that classmate who we completely blew off in high school, or worse, who we teased mercilessly. I reflect in deep shame on how I teased a friend in Jr. High school simply to make myself look better. I think if I had been told off back then I would have cognitively known my behavior to be wrong, but it would take years for me to really know, to empathize, with what effects my words likely had on my friend.
When my mother died, amidst the early confusion and grief, a prominent thought in my mind as I rode the 7 or so hours to our home in the back seat of a van was, "I am now a sixteen year old who's mother has died." It struck me then and later as an incredibly selfish thought, that I would be concerned at that time of grief with how my life was going to be lived from there on out and how I was going to be viewed. I have long since given up telling others and myself how one "should" feel in a given situation, though. And if that is how I felt then, beyond the question of whether the thought was selfish or not, it was significant.
And it has been significant. To borrow a metaphor from Sheldon Vanauken, the book of my relationship with my mother was ended and was sent off to the Printers, as short and incomplete as it may have seemed. And what I was and am left with is the memories of my sixteen years with her and the recollections of my brothers and father and friends to try to piece together some things about my mother that I want to know now, that I did not have the desire or maturity to know then. What did she think about a host of things, especially concerning her faith? Did she struggle with pride? What did she think about marriage?
The point of all of this is not simply to get all weepy and emotional. However, these are real things, amidst a host of others, of which I am envious of those of you who still have your mothers. In this week leading up to Mother's Day, I am going to try to produce a couple of posts talking about mine.
Personal Growth or Lack Thereof | By jackdas | 11:47 PM
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