A delayed, but no less important, continuation of writing about my family and lineage.

When I wrote the post about my father a few months ago, it was around Mother’s Day. Out of a sense of irony, and just to be a contrarian, I had intended to write about my mother around Father’s Day, but other projects distracted me.

It is, however, not because my mother is any less important to me than my father.

It is true that I am more similar, at least outwardly, to my father. Aside from the obvious connection, that we are both men, I also look unmistakably like him. I inherited many of his personality traits, including an introverted nature. But I am just as much my mother’s son, in ways that are not always physically apparent, but no less crucial to what makes me, well, me.

My mother has the biggest heart of any person I know. She cannot abide seeing pain in others, and would sacrifice her life, well-being, and everything she owns if it would save someone she loves from suffering. Her love for children and animals is endless, and the cruelty that is inflicted on them by the heartless denizens of the world is crushing to her (and by extension, me as well). The only bad thing that I can say about my mother’s heart is that she wears it on her sleeve, and it gets her hurt by a world that is too often selfish and malevolent.

So I am the product of two very different people: a man of intellect and logic, combined with a woman of heart and passion. I fall exactly in the middle of the two extremes most of the time, and despite the difficulties this has occasionally caused, I am grateful to have the balance within me. If I didn’t have a deep, fervent well of passion within me to keep my intellect from shutting out the world, I think I would go mad. At the same time, I’m very glad that I have a brain which can occasionally keep my heart from gushing out of control.

My mother is a wonderful human being. She is sensitive, giving of herself, and would do anything for her family. The short end of the stick that life has consistently given her is not fair, but the least I can hope for is to give someone else the kind of love and affection which she has shown me. The best thing that I can say about my parents, is that they have shown me both what to do, and what not to do in a marriage. And with that being said, they are still wed after 28 years… so I think I will do just fine when the time comes.

FIN