My relationship with my mother has never been better since she died.
Our lives together were fraught with contention (The Letter, The Mother Load). A healthy, enjoyable rapport, elusive. One of the many things I found nearly intolerable was her insistence on taking on everyone else's problems, a crisis magnet, a drama sponge. She absorbed every iota of someone else's misery and lept into Cirque du Soleil contortions to fix it. A hero complex for the ages, in my opinion. Yes, my mother's ability to feel compassion, and put it into action, made me want to shake her, hard. I felt she went too far, held back nothing in her quest. She gave away so much of herself that it undid her. I questioned her motives on more than one occasion. At the end of her life she was left penniless, a host to a litany of addictions, and illnesses both mental and physical, and many who benefited from her largess couldn't find time for her. So, I figured - compassion is for suckers. Then, she succumbed to the bad health I thought she'd somehow always survive. As time will, it passed and I saw an upside to death. A legacy is whatever the living choose to remember. We hone it, define it, relate it. I could pick and choose the memories of my mother that I wanted to keep, or dwell on. Without the carousel of baggage that circled our relationship like buzzards over a carcass, I found more space to consider her life, and its lessons, with more objectivity. Through those memories sifted, I found out what compassion is and what it is not. It's not love. You can love someone yet feel little to no compassion for them. I know. Been there, done that. It's not generosity. Too often generosity is accompanied by its ugly twin - self serving. The hyper giving can dole out gifts with strings attached to their personal agenda. Giving often has more to do with the giver than the receiver. It's not forgiveness. You can forgive, but seldom forget. You can forgive and never want to see whoever it is you've bestowed forgiveness on again, or care what happens to them. It's not sympathy. You can cluck cluck about someone else's misfortune and never break a sweat. No, compassion is its own thing - the ability and willingness to feel someone else's pain as your own. Without realizing it, I started down a path I'd never been on. I began to wonder what it must've been like to be my mother. To live her imperfect and painful life, to suffer her disappointments, to keep her chin up, to offer up everything and anything she had to be loved. Yes, I started to feel compassion for her. And, let me tell you, it could break me. While I stand by my opinion she over did it, and that sometimes her intentions got mucked up by her less noble, but human side, I choose now to remember it in its most flattering light, to reflect on her life with compassion instead of criticism, and it hurts. Inviting her pain into my life can bring me to tears quicker than anything else. We're a culture full of individuals that can't handle our own troubles without therapy and a Prozac chaser, much less someone else's. To think that my mother bore her own considerable burdens yet still devoted much of her life to alleviating everyone else's without the benefit of psychiatry or pharmaceuticals, says a lot about her grit. For the first time, I really get it. Compassion's not for suckers or sissies, it's for badasses who possess an inordinate amount of strength and fortitude. Especially if they've got the spine to live it and not just feel it. Digging in, armpit deep, eyes wide open, with someone else who is suffering, to take it on in full, is not for the weak. I don't know any other undertaking that will separate the men from the boys faster than putting another's calamity ahead of your own. So, in death, my mother taught me more about living a compassionate life than I ever imagined she could. Even though I wish I would've summoned the courage to look on her with a more committed kindness while she lived, I know it had to be this way. It was how we rolled, for better or worse. In case you're wondering, I do understand that compassion, after the fact, looks a lot like guilt. I'm still a work in progress.
46 Comments
Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:42:45 am
Thank you, Pia. Sometimes you need time and space to really appreciate, and feel for, someone. Unfortunately.
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2/20/2015 12:00:17 am
This was a stunning piece. I wish you greater clarity as you move on, with fewer tears and greater peace.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:43:36 am
Thank you, Susan. Like Frank Sinatra said, "Regrets...I've got a few."
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2/20/2015 12:02:28 am
Hi Kathleen! I'm so happy to be joining you in this #1000speak project of sharing compassion around the world. AND I find it incredibly interesting how we can all share different aspects of this incredibly powerful force for good. I SO agree that compassion is not for wimps or is passive. It is one the strongest most noble things we can do. And yes, I think we are all works in progress! ~Kathy
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:45:05 am
It was a great endeavor. So many good folks in the blogger world. I feel lucky to have "met" so many and shared their experiences. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I've got to look for you!
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Sandy Dillard
2/20/2015 01:03:51 am
Well written my friend!
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:45:33 am
Thank you so much, my friend.
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2/20/2015 01:15:38 am
I found this incredibly moving. Beautifully written, too.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:46:41 am
Thank you Lisa. It was cathartic for me. Most of the time writing is. I really appreciate your commenting here.
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2/20/2015 02:39:34 am
Wow, Kathleen! This had me in tears for reasons that are not about today, so not going there. And no, compassion is not for the faint of heart! This is a unique take on the subject - awesome!
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:48:08 am
Awwww...well, I'm so glad you found something to take away from this piece. I think all of us can get teary about mothers, if we have one, didn't have one, or if we are one, or want to be one. A lot of emotion tied to the word. Thank you for reading!
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2/20/2015 04:13:05 am
Oh the fine line between compassion and guilt. My grandmother felt guilty about things ALL the time. In some ways she sounds, without the addictions a lot like your mom. But she never took it to quite THAT level. My mom has my grandmother's compassion without her ... let us call it zeal. I think, actually, she has my grandFATHER's compassion, if nuts are going to come to bolts. Or maybe a combination of the things her parents felt and did.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:49:52 am
Sounds like you had great examples growing up. I did too, really. I was just too much of a brat to realize it at the time. So, I too am more of a hurricane kind of person! But, live and learn. I hope. Thanks so much for sharing and reading.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:51:32 am
You know, I find my mother deserved a lot more compassion than I was willing to give. She was flawed, but so am I. Aren't we all? I hope however you feel about your mother is something you're comfortable with - that's all we can do.
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2/20/2015 04:39:09 am
"It's not sympathy. You can cluck cluck about someone else's misfortune and never break a sweat." Absolutely love that statement of truth, Kathleen! And so many others in this fantabulous post about compassion for #1000Speak today!!!! I love your "voice" and completely agree with all your sentiments included in this post! So glad you're part of the fantastic effort today - and so rightly so! Sharing this everywhere!!! :)
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 05:53:35 am
Thank you so much, Marcia! Writing this post made me really nervous. I drug my feet a lot. Not sure why. Too close to home? I dunno. Compassion is a difficult subject, I think. But it's something we all need. It's been a great day for sure on the blogosphere!
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2/20/2015 07:11:17 am
This is so beautifully written. I could read some of these lines over and over and still not fully absorb their full depth of meaning - my favorite is this: "A legacy is whatever the living choose to remember." That line will haunt me as I sit with it and look to apply to my own life. Your mother would be so proud. xo.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/20/2015 07:30:42 am
I just realized, reading your comment, that part of my mother's legacy is this post and the response to it. How happy she'd be to know it. She'd never believe in a million years that I would want to model my life after hers. My loss. Thank you, Claudia. Love to you.
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2/20/2015 07:55:11 am
Love this post and the fact that parts of it could have been my life with my mother. Other than the issue of her having no compassion for anyone in her life, I was drawn in by your first line and you sealed it with the last two lines. That is my life now. Great piece. beautifully written for those who love our mothers but struggle with who they are/were.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:27:31 am
I think that's a common phenomenon. We all struggle at least a little with who are parents are vs. who we think they should be. Acceptance is a blessing. Thank you for reading and commenting. I really appreciate it.
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I imagine that this must have been hard to write, Kathleen. Compassion is not for wimps; it's for people with grit and courage. It took courage to write this post about finally understanding, without completely agreeing with, your mother. I feel similarly about mine; I still don't agree but I get her!!
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:29:15 am
For some reason, my blogging life is usually painful. Novels are a lot more fun. Compassion was a much tougher topic to take on than I thought it would be. I think most of us would say we don't necessarily agree with our mothers. It must be a rule!
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:30:18 am
As much as I hate to be a cliche...I am. Hindsight is really 20/20. It's my mom's way of letting me know she was right...AGAIN!
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2/20/2015 09:41:51 am
Terrific post Kathleen. Your no bullshit views are what I love about you the most...that and your shoes of course! I loved it beginning to end.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:25:45 am
Thank you, Rena. You're so awesome. Shoes are gangsta, for sure.
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2/20/2015 06:07:27 pm
You know you had meat the title. I thought - what? But now I understand. I'm glad you wrote your beautiful post and came to terms with what you mom thought was so important with compassion. Wonderful post.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:32:42 am
Thank you, Cathy. I thought for a while I wouldn't be able to write on this topic. I felt I didn't really have anything new or profound to say about it. So, I'm happy that it's been well received. A great endeavor and I'm glad to have been asked to participate.
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2/21/2015 12:08:01 am
Oh this is good. SO good. I love how you shifted your perspective in rear view, and found a place of compassion surrounding your mom's life. I love your definition of compassion. Such TRUTH.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 03:36:38 am
Thank you Christine. I take that as quite a comment coming from you. It would be so much easier to never go inward, wouldn't it? Some truths can only be seen when they're behind us. When you're too close, living it, it's much harder. You've got to have some time to think about it.
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Oh this was so beautifully written! Glad you set on this journey and learnt the true meaning of compassion....
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/21/2015 06:12:58 am
I'm so glad you thought so. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. Yep, moms have a way of being heard...even beyond the grave.
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2/21/2015 07:23:59 am
Great post, I don't know what to say.. I'm not looking forward to when it's my turn to think like that about my mom and/or dad.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/22/2015 04:25:58 am
It's not fun to look forward to it. Even when you know it's imminent, like I did, it's tough. A real game changer. Enjoy them. That's all I can offer. Look for the lessons they impart just by living.
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2/21/2015 11:22:39 am
This in so honest and so very moving. I have had quite the relationship with my mother and over the past few years I have managed to finally realize what she went through, seen life from her point of view. I choose not to live MY life that way and make the changes I need to but I do, finally, understand. Thank you for writing so openly about a subject that I'm sure many will relate to.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/22/2015 04:27:40 am
Seeing things from another's point of view is the hardest thing. It's why compassion, in action, isn't easy. I know I am always surprised when people don't act like I think I would. Duh. It's what makes life interesting, terrible, beautiful and ugly all at the same time. Thank you so much for reading, Sandy. I really am thankful.
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2/23/2015 01:52:39 pm
What a twist on Compassion. Seriously. I loved how you wrote this, too. I'm not close with my mother yet we never had a difficult relationship. Your words have made me think about the after death relationship and whether I will have ongoing guilt. Wonderful post, Kathleen. I came over from Sister Wives b/c your comment struck a chord.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
2/24/2015 03:37:00 am
Thank you, Lisa! I'm so excited you came over from Sisterwives. I love that site and all of you great women. I have to write what is true to me, and for better or worse, this post is my truth. I have a lot to learn, still.
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I have goosebumps...simple goosebumps. I don't see guilt at all, but recognition that whatever your relationship was with your mom it is beginning to heal for you. That you needed to step away and begin to heal first before you could feel compassion. Thank you for being so very freaking honest.
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Kathleen O'Donnell
3/12/2015 04:24:23 am
Thank you, Kerri. And, yes, I agree that we often can't see things for what they are until they're behind us. Unfortunately. I really appreciate your kind words and your support of my blog.
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Kathy
3/11/2015 10:17:55 am
Kath..... I understand what you are saying. I know for a fact how much your mother loves (d) you and I also know how much you love (d) her. At the end of the day.... That's really all that matters. As always I luv u!
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Kathleen O'Donnell
3/12/2015 04:25:55 am
Yes, she did. And I loved her more than I realized and miss her every day. Even the irritation! You are so right, at the end of the day, it's about love in all its complicated glory. Love to you, my friend.
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3/15/2015 09:30:59 am
***Compassion's not for suckers or sissies, it's for badasses who possess an inordinate amount of strength and fortitude***
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Kathleen O'Donnell
3/16/2015 12:12:17 am
Thank you so much! I'm so excited to see you here. I'm glad you liked my post. I wasn't sure how it'd go over.
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