Do we pick our parents? Some believe no, others believe we choose our parents before coming to this world in order to learn certain life lessons and to spiritually evolve. There is a related school of thought of “soul contracts”: that we have certain contracts with others souls (family, partners, etc.) in order to learn life lessons and/or carry out karma.
I am not entirely clear on my beliefs regarding this topic but I am compelled to explore this philosophy since my mother visited me on Tuesday. The short story is that my mom and I are pretty much estranged. I had a difficult childhood and its because of her that I was exposed to abuse, her drug addictions and dysfunction. I am thankful that I have broken the cycle and am pretty much a healthy individual. Hence, I have a very low tolerance for the bullshit that surrounds addicts.
“I want to see you. You have been here for a month and I have not seen you….when can I see you? WHEN?” my mom repeated adamantly over the phone last week. I knew it was a bad idea, but I figured seeing her for the first time in 3 years would be better than the crap I would get if I did not see her. And I have the “guilty daughter complex.”
Tuesday was my two week post-op anniversary. I woke up feeling strong, but I was dreading my day. My sister drove over an hour each way to pick her up so that we could have a day visit. Thinking it wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined, they arrived. I was forewarned via text from my sister that she wasn’t doing well, not making sense (early signs of dementia?).
It was soon apparent that it was not dementia, but rather she overmedicated on Ativan (that was prescribed to her by a doctor). I was furious. I hit my tipping point. The toxicity in the room spilled over to everyone, and it wasn’t before the end of the day that everyone was snapping at each other. I accidentally dropped my cell phone and, without thinking because I was so angry, I bent over to pick it up. Suddenly my pain rose to a level 8. I screamed in pain. Being stubborn, I managed to get the phone off the floor, tucked it in my pant’s waistband and crutched to my room. I laid down in bed and cried. At that point, I realized I was done. There is no hope for her, and its sad and confusing and heartbreaking because at the end of the day, she is my mom. But my being done transcends everything else.
As I walked into the fire not only am I shedding parts of myself that no longer serve me, I am also releasing relationships that are no longer for my highest good. If soul contracts can be written, they can be cancelled. Voided. Torn up and thrown away. Burned. That night in my room with deep intense feelings, I imagined my mom and I looking at each other. We acknowledged each other. We had the soul contract between us. We mutually agreed it was time to let go. The contract was torn into pieces. The pieces vanished and was replaced by light. There was peace. I am free.