We all have triggers. Some people’s are deep, some are shallow. Some are devastating, some are just irritating. As a motherless mama, my particular trigger happens to be when I see or hear of a young mom with a supportive and involved mother, in the role of a grandmother. Still now, almost five years since my mom’s death and almost two years since my daughter’s birth, I can’t quite deal with it with the grace and acceptance I long for.
One of my recent goals was to spend more “me” time – guilt-free and just for me. Today I had a couple of hours to spare because a work meeting fell through. I thought I would treat myself to a manicure/ pedicure with a gift card I had sitting around in my wallet for months.
It was a beautiful little day spa in my neighborhood. I was soon in my zen place. Feet up, toes all pretty, relaxing spa music and dimmed lights. As the lady finished up my pedicure, we were chatting away about all sorts of things. She was a talkative woman in her late 60’s, with kind eyes and a warm smile. She told me about her now-grown three kids, her neighborhood, and her elderly mom. She asked about my family and I told her I was a mama to a beautiful toddler girl. She asked about my background and I told her my parents and I had immigrated to Canada when I was a little girl. She asked if my parents missed home. Here we go, another awkward exchange coming up. I told her my mom had passed four years ago and she did a quick “ohh,” averted her eyes and changed the subject. Same old awkward reaction, I am used to it.
She asked where my daughter was and I told her she’s with my mother-in-law, who looks after her every Tuesday while I usually work at the office. She smiled and said, “oh okay, she’s with her grandma.” Sting number one. It hurt, but not as bad as sting number two. “You know, when my first granddaughter was born,” she said with a smile, “I used to take her overnight just so my daughter can get some sleep. Otherwise, you burn out, you know.”
Oh, I know. My zen place was suddenly gone and I was back in my reality place. I know it’s an irrational response, but right there and then, I wondered how someone can say something so cruel. It wasn’t cruel to her, I know. It wasn’t cruel to someone who hasn’t lost their mom, I know that too. She didn’t understand. Not many people do. I scrunched up my face to stop the wall of hot tears that had formed at the edge of my eyelids.
I guess that’s the thing about triggers. You can’t avoid them, you can’t prepare for them, and you definitely can’t stop them.
On my drive home, I started thinking about other people’s triggers – the mall full of moms pushing strollers to a woman who can’t conceive, the restaurant full of couples to a lady who just lost her husband. There’s so much pain in this world. I really miss the days when I was one of the lucky ignorant few who have never been affected by loss.