Human Intention

Books about motherhood have wrestled my aching body ever since my own mom decided to walk away from hers the first and second time. Finding a letter on my bed at age fifteen to learn she never intended to come back was how I found out I'd have to raise myself. With trembling legs, I read the letter she also left my dad on his bed in the guest room. Although it was different ideas and I didn't process most of her Spanish, both his letter and mine had: I love you. And although mothers and daughters in books hurt each other in different ways, they always find ways to touch foreheads and forgive. This is because the daughters learn in the end that their mothers never intended to hurt them, and I walk with that as I learn to forgive my parents and random strangers who hurt me and those around us.

"The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes" by Diane Chamberlain is a book that lingers within me, its plot and characters coming to mind whenever I talk to my mom. How the main character did everything in her power to protect her daughter and ended up creating a mess of a human being that couldn't go in elevators or use public transportation. She never intended for her to be that way, to turn out so helpless. But as a woman with a new identity, she was helpless. She did things a certain way because she felt like she owed her daughter's real and dead mother something for being part of what brought them together, for watching her die and not trying harder to keep her alive. She did things out of guilt and a newfound love she discovered as she's shoved into her new role of motherhood.

I know people are inherntly good, they just learn how to do bad things or do things for themselves and their own joy that accidentally hurts other. My mom was looking out for her own happiness and freedom the times she left and came back to us, and I was always her strong daughter. Her perfect child who cried behind walls so she wouldn't think was hurting me. Because I knew she didn't want to. It wasn't her intention.