This morning I woke up to prepare a special breakfast. Seth is in town and I work later this afternoon. I wanted a special time this morning with Seth. I was clearing up the counter, gathering eggs, and following instructions in the recipe. The sense of doom filled me. So I have failed in life. At age of fifty four, I have not yet been able to get someone to serve me.
My memory flashed back to a little girl. My mother was working so hard. Her hands blistered in winters from cold water. For one hundredth time she told me, "This will not be your lot. You will not cook and clean. That is for servants." She always wanted me to study. "I don't want you to do anything but study. Become some one who is served." At those times it was "that is mom." And I continued to read or do something with books. Although I didn't remember her slaving for others, I heard about it so often that I knew what word was going to come from my mother. "I was a young girl of 18. I thought I was marrying into a noble family....only to find out that I would be a servant to my husband's family, parents, six siblings..." Each time as I heard this same story, I knew that I was not to repeat her life, that I must have servants cook and clean for me, that my job was to study... Oh how she must have longed her past life and determined that her daughter will not serve. There were dozens of servants in her home. There were dining room just for servants to be served by cooks and there were dining room for the master's family.
Tom came by. He gave me a hug from behind and turned me around. "Are you OK? Oh I see that you are not OK" He went back upstairs to his office. I was crying now. Yes. Logically I could give all my reasons why the way I feel is crazy. Yet I was filled with the sense of agony with my failure in life. This has haunted me for the last twenty five years of our marriage. Our marriage has been turbulant because I had blamed Tom for myself not reaching my mother's dream. I was too busy trying to reach the success myself. I could not give my all to my children because I was not a proper mother if I was cooking and cleaning. To live a life where everything in you cried "NOOOO" was not easy. I am supposed to be spending my time taking my children to museums, travel, and....
Tom realized that he needed to come down and help. Soon we were cooking for our special breakfast with our son Seth. I was fine now. As long as someone was working with me I was not a slave. It ended up being a wonderful and delicious breakfast and special time for us.
(wings to fly....for my story)