My mother
asks this question throughout the day. Everytime she asks, I have to pause and
orientate myself, because it’s the school holidays, and, with my usual routine
out by the window, I don’t have as clear an idea of where I am in the week as I
normally do. After I answer her, she admonishes herself for not having known. I
assure her that it’s understandable, as she doesn’t have appointments or
deadlines – I tell her most retired people experience that. It feels wrong to
tell her, “Well, it’s because you have
Alzheimer’s”, even if it is true.
It’s funny
how the words spoken by one’s mother have a level of power that stands alone.
Yesterday my mom saw my freezer door ajar and commented on how much ice there
was. I told her I was busy defrosting it, and that it had been a lot worse when
I started the task on Monday. She asked me why it had become so badly iced up,
and I explained that I had been busy. She said, “But surely if you did it
regularly, it wouldn’t get that bad?” She was right, of course, but I
reiterated that I’d been very busy.
And then she said something that affected me profoundly: “But that’s very
naughty of you.” A simple sentence, said in all innocence, said in the typical
way a mother speaks to a child. It hurled me back to my childhood, a time when
everything my mother said informed me as to whom I was, whether I was on track
or not, a time when I was a fully functional pleasing machine, where my sense
of myself was gleaned through the spoken words and other non-verbal nuances of
my rudder, my radar, my pilot, my anchor – my mother. In an instant, I pulled myself back to the
present and explained, probably in too much detail, just how busy I usually was,
and how school holidays were the only times I could do this kind of thing.
The power of
that one sentence, though - and its trigger effect - reminded me of a time when
I’d gone back, for the umpteenth time, to a boyfriend I’d said I’d finally broken up with. An honest,
well-meaning friend said to me, holding nothing back, “I’m very disappointed in
you, Trudy.” I don’t think she’ll ever know how those words cut through me,
destroying my sense of my ability to make a good decision. Again, she was
completely right – it was ridiculous of me to have given the person another
chance, and it must’ve been disappointing to all my friends; they just didn’t say
it to me. In her childlike innocence, she had said what everyone else was
thinking, but was too socially conditioned to say. The one thing that that encounter
taught me, though, was never to say those words to anyone, especially my
children, unless I was prepared to live with the alienating consequences. Words
can be more powerful than we realize, and can cause long-term damage.
But the
beauty of the power of words is that they can also alter the course of one’s
life in a positive way; sometimes, a simple sentence, uttered at the right
time, can open your eyes, make you change direction and lead you to more
freedom and happiness than you’ve ever had. A few years ago, stuck in a
decaying relationship, I was asked this question by my partner, after I’d
complained about things I wasn’t happy with: “Trudy, who’s in control of your
life?” That was arguably the most
life-altering question I’d ever been asked. It sparked an energy vibration in
me to regain control of my life and to take decisions that were healthy for ME.
It was a question that freed me from a confining situation, a situation that
only I could free myself from.
The time was
obviously right.
And today
is…..?
