A Box Full of Darkness
A Box Full of Darkness
Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.
~Mary Oliver
Mother’s Day is upon us.
For so many, it is a day fraught with difficult feelings that can come from so many directions. Many have struggled trying to become mothers, sometimes successful, sometimes not. For others, the loss of their mother turns this day glum. Then there are those who never really had mothers at all, through absence, or abuse, giving yet another flavor to the darkness that can go along with this day.
I confess, for as long as I can remember, Mother’s Day has been challenging. All the commercials, the store display, the ever-present reminders that the Hallmark sentiments do not apply here. For a long time, I resented the gloom that would reliably descend as the calendar ticked down the days to Mother’s Day and recede again once the dreaded date had passed, and I could pack up all the complicated feelings into their neat tidy little box once again.
At some point, though, I started looking at the gloom and the darkness that inspired it more closely—mostly an activity born of resentment and jealousy and not expected to produce anything productive. And yet the exercise in introspection insisted on bearing unique fruit.
The darkness had touched me in many ways, I already knew that. Many of the marks left on my soul were obvious, but I found others as well. Marks that changed me in ways I could not resent. The darkness has made me resilient, more empathetic, more patient, more tolerant; traits I value but never quite know how to obtain.
The darkness had become a gift—not one I ever desire to be sure, but one I could be grateful for.
Would I rather not have had the darkness and been able to overflow with greeting card sentiments on Mother’s Day? At one time I would have said yes, but now? Now, I would hate to wish away the gift it has become. I honestly appreciate the growth it has wrung out of me and would profoundly miss the better person I have become.
Darkness can be a gift.
So, for those of you for whom Mother’s Day is difficult, be gentle with yourself and know you are not alone.
Interesting perspective ?
Maria Grace, thank you so much for sharing these thoughts —and for sharing your voice. Thank you especially for meeting the darkness with such compassion for others and yourself. Beautiful post.
Thank you
I believe we all have darkness to learn from. It could be from a mother or other family member, a teacher, or a stranger. Human interactions and relationships are difficult as well as beautiful. How we emerge from the the dark ones and move forward is what matters. I believe you have the right of it. But I also feel we should not despair the struggle to emerge. It takes time to come to terms with trauma. Thank goodness we have some wonderful JA fanfic to read for those times when dark memories haunt us at night. I often open my Kindle and free my mind for a respite. Thank you for your contribution to my well being Maria.
Thank you. Like Elizabeth, I, too, prefer to “Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.” I honestly don’t remember celebrating Mother’s Day as a child. My step-mother was not one I could celebrate. But with my own family it is a quiet affair. We aren’t big on the commercialized version of it. We should honor those we love every day.
Thank you. I needed that.