My daughter-in-law hired a “day of wedding coordinator” named Anastasia for the wedding last week. My daughter-in-law’s mother’s Autocorrect feature on her cellphone, constantly changed the name “Anastasia” to “Anesthesia”, which while amusing, was actually quite apropos. I don’t know if I have ever met a more calm, soothing, serene woman than Anastasia in my entire life, particularly at a wedding. Anastasia was like an eight-armed goddess as she sewed, handed out flowers, took instant photos, steamed dresses, and calmly reminded everyone where they should be at any given time, all at once, and all of the while, maintaining the aura of pure peace and serenity. Whenever we had a question or concern, we would joke with each other that Anastasia would magically, and instantly appear, sometimes out of the fireplace, or the floorboards, to answer the question or to solve the problem, calmly and confidently. It reminded me of a long time ago, when we were on the Disney Cruise with our four young children. It was at that time that I started truly believing that Disney magic was actually the real deal, when again, the beyond cheerful crew and smiling staff appeared almost miraculously and instantly, in order to solve any issues or upsets, with just a wave of Tinkerbell’s wand. Throughout the day and night, my daughter-in-law kept repeating that Anastasia was easily the best money spent on the wedding.
It was at one point during the evening, right before the wedding was to start, that I blurted out, for no particular reason, “I WANT an Anastasia in my life.” Then, a second later, in a lightbulb moment, I blurted out, to no one in particular, but to anyone in earshot, “I think that I am my family’s Anastasia.”
My middle son, about to take a bite out of a piece of the pre-wedding pizza, matter-of-factly stated, “You are, Mom.” Then he continued to joke around with the other groomsmen.
This was one of those personal a-ha moments that came out of left field for me. It occurred to me, just in that very moment, that our family always did have a live-in Anastasia. It was me. We moms are our families’ “Anastasia/Anesthesia”. Now I’m not going to pretend that I ever pulled it off with such placid and tranquil vibes that the real Anastasia imbued. I’m not go to pretend that I never had a meltdown in a crisis. But overall, I fully understood that it was my job to make sure that our family’s schedule/celebrations/sporting events/ceremonies/appointments/feeding times/surprise emergencies, etc. etc. were all handled, and executed in a timely manner, day after day. I was the one who made sure that the Venn Diagram schedule of each member of our family, happened and flowed, in the best way possible. And all of my other fellow moms did the exact same thing for their families. And sometimes, we even pulled it off, with totally unruffled energy, making it look simple and seamless. Damn, we were good. Damn. We are good.
When our four kids were little, it was never the physical work that made me totally exhausted (although it certainly added to the mix), it was the mental exhaustion that got to me every time. I would often wish that someone would just hand me a timed schedule, and a to-do list, and a recipe and a plan for what to make for dinner, all which I could accomplish in a tranced-out robotic state and still have time and energy for my own interests and hobbies. (My husband will be forever scarred by the one time that he called me at a McDonalds to ask me what exactly he should order for each of the four kids, on a rare Mommy’s Night Out. Let’s just say that I didn’t have a serene response.)
I’m not writing this in “victim-mode.” This choice to be the matriarch of my family is the best decision that I have ever made in my entire life. I would make the exact same decision again and again. Being the female head of my family, is my honor, privilege and my greatest pride. However, lately, I am starting to get a better understanding and a closer-up glimpse, that it really is time for me to start pulling way back, scaling down my self-described duties, in order to just really put my focus on being a lighter-duty Anastasia – a concierge, mostly for myself. This is a strange adjustment. This transition doesn’t happen instantly. It starts slowly when one kid moves out, and then another. It becomes more obvious, when the kids graduate and find loving, responsible adult partners who are looking out for them, too. It’s the realization that the grocery cart doesn’t need to be nearly as full anymore. It’s the mental and emotional shift of being an active creator of the life of your family unit, to becoming the more passive experiencer/observer of the expanding lives of your family. It’s the realization that your family has now become plural. There are multiple sprouts growing in the family garden now. Your family is becoming “families.”
As a mom, I will always be an Anastasia/Anesthesia in some form or other. It comes with the territory. It’s a hard habit to break. Something tells me, I’ll pull off a serene Anastasia a little bit better with my future grandchildren. I certainly hope that I have the opportunity to try.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.