~When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts...
A mother has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child. ~Sophia Loren
I watched the Disney/Pixar movie Brave this evening. And cried.
Much to my youngest's chagrin.
There was a time in the not too distant past Youngest would cuddle closer when my eyes welled, lay his head on my shoulder and say, "it'll be all right". Now he mocks me.
I remember fifteen. And not fondly.
Foremost, I remember the anger, the rebelliousness, the blatant dismissal of anything and everything Mother. Kind of like the young heroine in Brave. Perhaps that is what prompted the well-spring of emotion, the wash of bittersweet tears.
It is not easy growing up. Being a mother is harder.
Fear and insecurity is expected at fifteen. Mothers are supposed to be brave.
I'm not brave.
Every day tests my courage. Car/snowboard/motorcycle accidents. Phlegmy coughs/fevers/pain. Drugs/alcohol/suicide/pregnancy. Broken hearts. These are the things I fear, silent internal battles I wage. For my children.
As my mother did for me.
All that anger. All that resentment. Hurtful names. Shouted accusations. And all she wanted was to protect me.
Keep me safe.
I know that now. As my children will one day understand, too. Until then, I must be...