My Mom, The Warrior

This weekend my Mom is headed to Kelowna to compete in the Dragon Boat races. She tells me that there is a good chance that she will have to be "stroke". This means that the tempo of her stroke sets the pace for all of the other paddlers on her side of the boat.

My mother and I do not always get along. I still sometimes struggle to become stroke in my own life after following the lead established by my parents for so long. I do not think that rythm is something that comes naturally to me; it is much easier to be introspective and silent.

As I get older, in the tradition of all good suburbanites, I am discovering that I can occasionally see the place my mother is speaking from. Sometimes I even understand her. More often, I find that I am able, at the very least, to respect the things she has to say. It is getting easier to accept "smother mother" behaviour (that would formerly have sent me into a long rant on the completely irrational and freekish nature of my parents) as something she feels compelled to do in response to the increasing independance exhibited by my younger sister and I.

I like to imagine the strangeness of things; how bizzare it must be to watch as something that was formed inside of yourself becomes wholy alien to you. Children are like water.