Recently, I found myself in a rather startling situation—my mother’s voice slipped out of my mouth. This was not a scenario I anticipated, especially at this stage of my life. My sister and I used to jest about how our mother was gradually morphing into our grandmother, sharing a knowing laugh because we believed we were immune to such fates.
However, as time has passed and we’ve entered new decades, the reality of aging has crept up on us in ways we didn’t acknowledge out loud. Those pesky gray hairs? Easily concealed. The “middle-age spread”? A problem solved with stylish blouses and stretchy jeans. We could still hold our own, or so we thought.
One day, after a particularly challenging discussion with my teenage son, I found myself exclaiming, “Jacob Andrew Smith (name changed to maintain privacy), if all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?!” The shock on my face was unmistakable—I recognized the phrase all too well from my own teenage years. I immediately called my sister to share my disbelief. “Oh, I’ve been there,” she replied. “Mom’s words have escaped my lips too.”
Although she is younger, my sister had already embarked on her parenting journey, so she was slightly ahead of me in this phenomenon. “I didn’t want to admit it was happening,” she confessed. As we reminisced, we realized that we had been echoing our mother’s phrases for longer than we cared to acknowledge.
“Don’t make me come in there!” “Don’t use that tone with me.” “It’s for your own good.” “I have eyes in the back of my head.” “As long as you live under my roof…” “Close the door. Do you live in a barn?” “Do as I say, not as I do.” “Do you think money grows on trees?” “Because I’m the mom.” “Because I said so.”
These expressions evolved as our children grew, transitioning from basic commands to more complex motherly wisdoms, ultimately leading us to the realization that we were on a slippery slope towards becoming our mothers.
The moment that initial phrase escapes your lips and you grasp that it’s your mother’s voice you’re channeling rather than that of a composed adult, it feels like a graduation of sorts. It’s the day you recognize you’re stepping into your new role, whether you wanted to or not.
During our 20s and 30s, we believed we were immune to this transformation. We felt strong, independent, and not at all likely to parrot our mothers’ words. Yet, here we are, recalling phrases from our childhood that have become ingrained in our parenting approach: “I’m going to give you to the count of three,” or “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
As I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I can see my mother’s likeness in my features. Perhaps this journey into aging isn’t as daunting as I once feared.
To my mother, I owe an apology for all those moments we laughed about her becoming more like Grandma. And while I’m at it, I should apologize for the times I didn’t listen, for not understanding her sacrifices, and for those moments of rebellion. “If I told you once, I told you a thousand times…” Yes, she probably did, just as we now repeat those same lessons to our children.
As I reflect on this transformation, it becomes clear that growing older and embodying the wisdom of those who came before us is not necessarily a negative experience. It can be a seamless transition into understanding and appreciating the journey of motherhood.
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In summary, recognizing the influence of our mothers in our own parenting styles can be both surprising and enlightening. It serves as a reminder of the cyclical nature of motherhood and the wisdom that comes with age, often revealing that we are more like our mothers than we ever imagined.