On the holiday I was over at my sister’s for a family gathering/celebration. I love my sister’s potato salad, absolutely freaking love it. A huge bonus was that she gave me a bunch to bring home in a plastic container, it was a lot. I always look forward to eating my little mothering food gifts from her a lot.
The only reason that it did not get eaten right away when I got home was that I was so tired out that I went to bed at nine pm that night, just at the time I started hearing some fireworks were starting. It was nice that the fireworks did not continue to bother me, because I went to sleep right away.
While my sister was preparing the potato salad to be dished out and put on the dining table, she does this thing where she always mixes it together one more time and then takes a spoon and tastes it.
She brought a full spoonful over to me and I opened my mouth and she put the wonderful food into my mouth. It was wonderful! What I didn’t expect is that my sister was overcome emotionally and started to cry because she was so touched that I let her put the spoon in my mouth. She said she was so moved that I let her.
I told her thank you for mothering me. Then I told her, thank you for mothering me when I was little. If it wasn’t for you and our brother, [who was born about 18 months before me], I don’t know who I would be. I think I may have started out sweet and good and kind but I don’t know who I would have become it wasn’t for the mothering by you and him.
(What I had left unsaid, but she understood was, since I didn’t get one iota of love or mothering from our biological mother I don’t seriously know what I would have become without finding others to love, nurture, and mother me. As well as being a survivor of mother daughter sexual abuse, neglect, and physical abuse by my mother, and being hated and rejected by my mother.)
I’ve said it before, but she usually pooh poohs what I say about the mothering that I got from my siblings, how it has positively effected my life, and most other positive things. She is a lot like me, in that she discounts most good things that others say and believe about her. But I think that I caught her at a vulnerable moment and that she might have let it in, even for a moment. It’s nice to be mothered in a good way, I desperately yearn for that, and I’m glad that I could say it again by thanking her for mothering me, in small little gestures of trust and devotion, and in all the other moments.