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If you could raise your kids again, what would you change?
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 691341" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Hi Esther</p><p></p><p>My mother was this generation that you talk about because here the first loss was when the children immigrated to America around 1910 or so. My mother's generation and yours would be the same. </p><p></p><p>I never ever heard my mother or grandparents utter one word of regret, sadness about what would come to be to our people left behind. Until my mother died 2 and a half years ago, not a word, and not a word from my grandparents. Silence.</p><p></p><p>It has been a really important thing to me to be with my grandparents, mother as they died. Until this moment I never realized that this sense of responsibility is something so utterly important and determined by what has gone before. I have such a longing for my people, Esther. When I see you post, your name, the same as my mother's I feel such a sense of utter loss and longing and love. There are really not words for it. And until right now, did not know why.</p><p></p><p>What wonderful and precious gifts, EstherI became a mother quite late, and my son is my difficult child. I do not know if there will ever be grandchildren. While my son does not share my genetic heritage, he is so much the child of my maternal grandparents, the best of them. He is sweet and kind and vulnerable. Quirky and opinionated and sensitive. Oh how I miss them. And my mother, Esther. </p><p></p><p>I will try to feel myself to be "the old old lady, the great grandmother," too. It will be a way to cherish myself. I am having a hard time because just last week I went back to work. After 3 and a half years away. First to take care of my mother, and then to mourn her and to mourn my life, it seems. Now I understand better the mountain of suffering I had to grieve, that I had been carrying. </p><p></p><p>I feel so vulnerable at work. Like I am a walking wound without defense. Maybe if I begin to think of myself with the dignity of an elder, and even an elder of my people (my people!!!) I will feel stronger, less a target. </p><p></p><p>Thank you Esther, for writing. To us and to me.</p><p></p><p>Thank you.</p><p></p><p>Love, Copa</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 691341, member: 18958"] Hi Esther My mother was this generation that you talk about because here the first loss was when the children immigrated to America around 1910 or so. My mother's generation and yours would be the same. I never ever heard my mother or grandparents utter one word of regret, sadness about what would come to be to our people left behind. Until my mother died 2 and a half years ago, not a word, and not a word from my grandparents. Silence. It has been a really important thing to me to be with my grandparents, mother as they died. Until this moment I never realized that this sense of responsibility is something so utterly important and determined by what has gone before. I have such a longing for my people, Esther. When I see you post, your name, the same as my mother's I feel such a sense of utter loss and longing and love. There are really not words for it. And until right now, did not know why. What wonderful and precious gifts, EstherI became a mother quite late, and my son is my difficult child. I do not know if there will ever be grandchildren. While my son does not share my genetic heritage, he is so much the child of my maternal grandparents, the best of them. He is sweet and kind and vulnerable. Quirky and opinionated and sensitive. Oh how I miss them. And my mother, Esther. I will try to feel myself to be "the old old lady, the great grandmother," too. It will be a way to cherish myself. I am having a hard time because just last week I went back to work. After 3 and a half years away. First to take care of my mother, and then to mourn her and to mourn my life, it seems. Now I understand better the mountain of suffering I had to grieve, that I had been carrying. I feel so vulnerable at work. Like I am a walking wound without defense. Maybe if I begin to think of myself with the dignity of an elder, and even an elder of my people (my people!!!) I will feel stronger, less a target. Thank you Esther, for writing. To us and to me. Thank you. Love, Copa [/QUOTE]
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If you could raise your kids again, what would you change?
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