Strong and Fragile…

This idea has been bouncing around in my head for quite a while. We put a lot of stock in being strong and we often equate it with resilience. Certainly the two can go hand in hand. Fragility can be seen as being easily broken or unable to deal with difficulties. This is the time of year when I see both all around me, especially in the garden. My hibiscus is a great example. It continues to grow and bloom even in the stifling heat. Its petals are very fragile and can easily be wrecked by an insect and yet they are such deep colours and bring such brilliance to my yard.

There are so many examples of strength alongside fragility. A woman can be petite in stature and powerful in voice. I’ve mentioned the flowers in my garden but think about the trees. Some of mine are huge and yet they sway and move in the winds of a storm, without toppling. And sometimes, those strong trees are uprooted in the violence of wild weather. Baby turtles make the voyage into the waves each year and are not destroyed by the force. They need the power of the water to make it to adulthood. Parents are great examples. They have no choice but to be strong as they raise children to be responsible, contributing individuals and yet, a parent’s heart is incredibly fragile. No one can crush a parent like a child - the shoves of toddlers who are trying to push against boundaries; the harsh words of a teenager trying to find their way in the world. Those hurts are like knife strokes to a parent and I tend to think that mothers carry them closest to the heart.

As a mom I can attest to the fact that no one can harm me the way my son can. I’m not saying he does it often or with intent. In fact, I think moms can end up bearing the brunt of it because we are (generally) the ones who are the most connected. [I am not downplaying a father’s role, not at all. In this case I want to concentrate on moms, knowing that the relationship with dads is just as important and just as close.] Moms (not discounting different situations like adoption, etc.) have nine months with a child before birth. That bond is incredible and I think can be part of why it’s easier to “take things out” on mom. I think it’s because the unconditional love that is between mother and child is a foundation.  That love is at the base of strength in a mother. No matter what a child does, no matter how they hurt us, that love is our cornerstone. It makes us both strong and fragile.

I spent Saturday with my mom. She’s in her 80’s, although one wouldn’t know it. Near us is the largest Highland Games in North America. We both love the pipes and drums and decided we wanted to attend. This year’s edition was during a heat wave. We were around 40C with humidity. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance. Even with the weather, my mom was game to attend with me. I saw a woman who, regardless of the amount of walking, the crush of people and the heat and humidity, embraced the day. She soaked it all up. For four hours. She finally took a bit of a break by letting me get the car and come back for her. At no point did I think her weak or fragile.

I’ve been thinking about my grandparents lately. How strong they must have been. They lived in a time without 24 hour anything, except maybe work. All four of them survived what had to be difficult times and yet they raised wonderful children and were loving grandparents. They did it without the technology that we have at our fingertips today. My mom is in an interesting generation, between the “old fashioned” of my grandparents and the rapid change of my own. She was around for the start of so much - from the introduction of television into homes, microwaves into kitchens, computers, digital everything, cell phones and so on. Her generation has had to adapt more than any previous generations, including my own. The gaps are dramatic between what my mother knew of growing up with her parents on the farm and what we have available now.  That alone requires a strength that current generations can’t possibly comprehend. Yet, her generation is often treated with disdain for their lack of comfort with the technology of today.

If anyone took the time to really think about what a person has gone through, I believe that respect would have to be a first response to my mom and the changes she has seen. We don’t stop to think. Instead youth often sees weakness in elders. They don’t know how to use the technology with the speed of youth. They can’t possibly understand the trials and tribulations of today’s world. They are seen as old and fragile. I can say, without hesitation, that it’s a false sentiment. Guess who does best when we have outages? My mom’s generation. They know how to cope, how to address problems in a way that the youth of today do not. I myself, may not be the fastest on the computer but I know how to write and take notes without one. My mother can survive without the technology of today and be happy. That’s a strength. Knowing how to use her cell phone is great but she doesn’t need it. Imagine being content without a cell phone in her hands! Where youth may see that as lacking, I see that as power.

Something you see on social media and read about on a daily basis is the idea of burnout. The culture of busyness. The idea that slowing down is somehow lazy. The pictures of always being "on the go”. Generations before me had it right. Rest is essential, not lazy. And by the way, I’ll bet you the definition of rest has changed a ton. Nowadays we think we need to go the spa (and yes, I love the spa) to reset or power down our minds. We don’t. My mom knows that one of the best ways is to sit back, take your time over your tea, enjoy a good book, read the newspaper, etc. She hasn’t turned away from the world, she’s just taking time to embrace it. Take a walk, spend time with friends. These are ways to relax. Turn off the electronics. Step away from the screen. There is so much strength to be found in learning from our elders.

I want to return to something I mentioned above. As strong as my mom is, the older I get the more I understand that she can be hurt easily. That’s the flip side of strength, the fragility of the heart and spirit. I didn’t realize it as a child. All those times I didn’t want her support or teaching was a little cut to her heart. My mom is a smart cookie. She knew those were essential for growth and development but there’s no way they didn’t hurt. I know they must have because of the number of times my son dealt them out in his own way. Maybe ingesting those hurts from children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, is a way of growing even stronger. I don’t know. What I do know is that with each passing day I become more aware of my mother’s strength. Sometimes it’s a quiet strength, sometimes it’s like Saturday and it’s a force.

I go to her for advice, for a shoulder, for an ear, time and time again. It’s easy for me to see how strong and resilient she is. It’s harder to remember that she’s fragile as well. This summer has been a reminder that both sides make her who she is today.

I can’t end this blog about the strong and fragile woman who is my mom without commenting on her faith. In fact, I want to put a capital on Faith. My mom, no matter what she encounters, or perhaps because of it, has the strongest faith of anyone I know. In my eyes it’s why she always comes out of challenges with the willingness to keep moving forward. She prays, attends mass, and counts on that connection to see her through the good and especially the bad days. I wish I was half as strong as my mom.

Entrance of the duty band for the official opening ceremonies.

A beautiful addition to my summer door, courtesy of my mom.

A perfect example of strong and fragile in my yard. The beauty of that brilliant yellow and if you look closely, the fragility of the petals that had been attacked by a pest. Still gorgeous in spite of the struggle.