Life of an Empath

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Waves of Acceptance

My mom has never truly had emotional clarity around anything.  If I am honest, she lives in ego through her achievements, intellect, and the ways she can beat people to the punch.  The result is that she is always generally happy because it's easy to be happy when you have not processed the deeper issue.  And, there are a lot of deep issues. How could there not be? She grew up in Alabama during Jim Crow. Nonetheless, everything I learned about being strong I would like to think I got from her.  And I believe everything associated with being emotional; I attribute to my empathic nature.

Speaking to my mother was the easy part, I knew that which is why I decided to tell her first. The truth is I knew she wasn’t going to accept my decision and telling her was merely going through the motions. One thing that came across very clear energetically was that she did not want to upset me.  She very cleverly measured her words and her thoughts because she felt she had to guard what would be left of the critical relationships, her granddaughter and me. That was sad to watch.

She did better than I expected and though sad, she had waves of understanding.  She understood we were leaving but was unclear on our return date. She understood we weren’t returning to Alabama but unsure what that meant for the future. She believed I was making a choice; trading in one family for another.  In the end, she offered her help with the transition, and I understood that as a kind gesture.

Here’s what I am leaving out.  The part that is critical the aspect that pulls my mother’s perspective full circle.

My mother knew we would move to Africa at some point. My husband made that perfectly clear a couple of months before our wedding.  It was never a secret. And, my announcement shouldn’t have been any surprise to her. What surprised her was that Africa became a reality and her prayer for my relocation plans to fail was not accepted.   For I am certain in the three years since she came into awareness that we had no desire to raise a family in the United States, she prayed many a night that God would not let that happen to her. My husband’s announcement was the real announcement.  It was at that time that my mother’s truest thoughts or shall I say her fears did all the talking for her.

My mother spoke these words to me, not my future husband…”I don’t want my (future) grandchildren speaking a foreign language! How are they going to communicate with me?  What if there is an emergency and I can’t get there fast enough, what will happen to you? What if you want to divorce him and he won’t let you leave?”

I’m not sure who was more blindsided my mother or me.