“I would not do it, even if, God forbid, my own mother wanted me to”.
I had hardly said that, when it struck me, the gravity of the words. I’d had a couple of shots by then, not in quick succession as I normally do, but well, two down nevertheless. My friends tell me I am a very different person under the influence of alcohol. I am not sure, maybe I am, but hell, why else would anybody drink, I think to myself.
We can not deny the fact that we owe much of our personal traits to the circumstances that we have lived our lives in. Some choose to blame the circumstance, others, like me, well, we just attribute. Blaming would, in my opinion, go one step further, as to ‘qualifying’ things. And in my limited scheme of thought, I’ve never considered myself worth judging things as this way or that.
So then, I can’t but help owe all I am, or much of what I am, to my upbringing. Now, I don’t know if it is a good thing or not – let us not get into this good or bad business and run into circles – but, my mother, she has always been the giving kind. In all honesty, I wouldn’t say she is the perfect being. Far from it, she hated, she was completely intolerant and consequently exclusive of certain people, some of whom mattered to me too, and yet, what strikes me about her – and this, I think only in retrospect – is the fact that she was conscious of her limitations, of being able to love some and not others. And deep down inside, I suspect she was also remorseful of the fact, though my own love for her makes me believe she needn’t have been.
And so I grew up with that dilemma of whether or not, and how to love some and not give some others. I wanted to love everybody. I don’t as of now – I wouldn’t fool myself or you by claiming to have attained such an elevated state – but that is the yearning, a constant, ineffaceable one, if there might be such a thing.
The funny thing is, it was that statement that got me thinking, and I said I would reflect upon it when I am sober. And so I am asking myself this – would I do anything, just about anything, for the sake of love? I think I would. I believe I am one of those crazy romantics, I’ve been there, done that. Save one thing – I wouldn’t love, at the cost of denying others the very same love. Us bums – and how, at times I curse myself for being so, but I am, and I am unable to help being so – we don’t believe in exclusivity.
And when I think about that statement, I seem to slowly but steadily be successful in getting rid of that dilemma. I don’t think, nay, I am quite sure my mother would not want me to do that – to love her or anybody else, after having denied others of love. And it is precisely why now, at this point of time, I am more grateful than anything or anybody else – to have taken seed in the womb of that blessed woman.
Thank you, my dear mother.
Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.