It is under-discussed how bizarre parenthood is. Your parents grew you like a tomato plant out of ingredients made from their bodies, and they spent months (possibly years) within spitting distance of you twenty-four hours a day. Then you started to have thoughts they were not privy too. They remember when you could not figure out to bend your knees when you walked. They remember when you were still figuring out how to wipe your ass properly. They remember when it was obvious you had started to masturbate. Now they now have to talk to you pretending you are an equal, or else you will get mad! This is ridiculous!
For most of my childhood my mother was sick, but then she got better, and then we stopped getting along. My father also got sick, but he did not get better, and that is when we started getting along. Now, for the first time since adolescence, I am able to enjoy the time I spend with my mother and show her affection. There is a lot we remember differently. Of course, my memories are the ones that are true, but the more time passes the more I can see that the history we share is actually two parallel but separate set of events. At times this is upsetting because I feel she is rewriting my childhood, but even if her version of me as toddler is different than my own, hers is the only one left other than mine, and that is worth something.
“My Mother” is a very focused song that leaves room for ambiguity. A lot of its beauty is in the clear-sighted simplicity in its sound and subject matter. You have a mother; you owe her a lot; and one day she will be gone. The song relies on a playful keyboard flute hook and the sweet performance of lyrics that deftly stands on the line of devoted and obligated.
my mother
how could I just live without my mother
cause she's the only one who bothers
for always alone with just my mother
cause she takes care like you're no other
