Different Today: The full storm moon

I had started a clever bit for this full moon, musing on the given name: Storm Moon.  I had a great metaphor, discussing how storms catch us off guard.  I had fancy language and captivating prose.  I had used colorful adjectives and my trademark fragments of sentences.  Oh, it was brilliant, I promise you. Most brilliant.  But the metaphor proved to be ornery and I couldn't get my adjectives to behave...in short, I gave up on it. It wasn't saying what I needed to today.  It wasn't saying anything.  A lot of words of nothing.

My mother in law passed away on Saturday. She was eighty, infirm with Alzheimer, and barely coherent, but she was alive. And now she is not.  Much like the summer thunderstorm, I saw it coming but denied it as a reality.  I suppose I hoped it would blow over, not rain here,  Not rain where she was. Not rain where I am.  

Yet, the storm did come and today is different; not different in daily reality, but different.  

My mother in law was not a cuddly person.  She did not dole out affection.  She did not nurture or comfort.  I spent most of my time wondering where I might have misstep with her.  Goodness knows, we were not cut from the same cloth...so, there was tension.

This morning she was on my mind as I walked in the park. I was wondering whether she and I could have had a different relationship if I had tried harder and did not harbor such a fierce pride.  I tried to recall the times that she wronged me, but found none.  I laughed as I realized that her crime was being unemotional.  I had determined her lack of emotion was an indictment of me. I had decided it was her personal statement of my unacceptability.  All of this was my own insecurity and fears.  She simply was not given to show her feelings.  In fact, in some ways I can see now that she was a injured bird taken into protection by my husband's father...much as my husband protects his own injured wife.  

So much left unsaid.  So much concluded by me in the absence of her words.

I realized that I have never witnessed my mother in law intentionally doing anything malevolent or mean. She did not even gossip. All these years I thought I was unloved by her; but the truth is that I was unloved by myself and in the absence of her raving endorsement of me, I let my own feelings toward myself fill the void. 

How often do we do this?  Project our own views of our self into the interpretations of conversations and statements made by loved ones?  How often do we prejudice our own ears to what is really being said?  How often do we assume criticism when none exists?

If I had a chance to have a conversation with her as she was a decade ago, I would not rush to presume what she felt about me.  I would open my heart to her knowing she would never intentionally injure it.  So much defense on both sides..I shake my head with the uselessness of it all...

Like I said, nothing is different in daily reality...but different nonetheless.