Mother

We are not what we eat, but what we are able to DO with what we eat.

Our digestive system is such an important part of our wellbeing. It isn't just about WHAT we eat, what we put into our mouths, but what we can DO with what we eat. We can eat only the best food on the planet, but if we are not able to fully digest and ABSORB it, then it is expelled into the toilet. Insert inappropriate pun here - It's just SHI$

As mother's day approaches, I'm wondering what stories to tell about my mother. Do I talk about my grandmother? Do I talk about me as a mother? Maybe a little of all of us. Each of us represent a generation, a period of time with it's own distinct understanding and characteristics.

I love seeing my mother's writing on the back of this picture! She made 5 copies, 1 for each of the Burr Girls!

Grandmother

Clara Mitchell was born in Hayden Utah on September 1, 1918. She was 1 of 10 children. She got married to Leo Lester Burr on November 10, 1936. She had 5 daughters and at the time of her death, she had 13 grandchildren listed in her obituary. There would be 3 more added to the tally. 1 added was a granddaughter who had been adopted to another family at birth and 2 more would be born after she passed. She died on June 30, 1978. As a granddaughter, I don't have all the memories of her life. I can only tell a brief synopsis of what I experienced of her life. I was in 9th grade, only 15 years old, when she died. It was a key milestone in my life.

As I've described, my earliest memories are in my grandma's home, in her presence, in her warmth. I have no memory of that warmth ever being lost. She loved her family and I can't ever remember a time when that fact wasn't at the center of each of her activities. Her home was immaculate. It was a modest 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom home. The laundry room was in the bathroom. There was a peach tree in the front yard and just beyond the fence in that back yard was an apple orchard. It wasn't fancy at all, but to me, it was Shangri-La.

When my mother remarried we moved to Box Elder county which is about 4 1/2 hours away from Moab. We traveled to Moab frequently, but not enough for me. My brother and I were able to spend our entire summers there for our childhood. Looking back on it now, I'm not quite sure how my mother let us do it. I can imagine as a mother this would have been really hard to do - let my very young children be gone for 3 months - but we did it. Maybe it gave her a bit of a break from the worry and stress of having 5 young kids. But I didn't have any reservations at all with being gone. It was back to the life I adored.

I remember cooking, cleaning, learning all the things a girl should learn. "Stop scowling, your smile is pretty". "Always be kind". I learned from her example more than from her words. She had ladies she would visit with, just to check on them and take me with her. We would go visit my great grandmother and help her clean her home, when it was necessary. Life in Moab was what I imagined people think of when they describe the 1950's 'Leave it to Beaver' mentality. Grandma responsible for the home, Grandpa responsible for making the living. There was a routine and a rhythm that was reliable, functional and loving.

I never saw an argument between my grandparents. No raised voices. My grandpa could be blunt and sometimes gruff, from my childish perspective. He had strong opinions about the way the world should work and my grandma seemed to go along with his points of view. They took care of each other, each in their own way. My grandpa seemed mysterious to me mostly. He was gone to work and didn't interact a ton with me, but I knew he loved me and never felt he wasn't pleased that we were there. My brother spent a ton of time with him. Grandpa operated a service station and my brother spent most of his days there. He loved my brother and I think he was the son grandpa never had. They worked and played together. They went fishing and I'm sure other stuff I know nothing about. It was boy stuff and I was very happy to be with grandma doing our girl stuff.

I made friends with other girls in the cul-de-sac and looked forward to our night games. Summers in Moab can be very hot, so running around in the day would sometimes be untenable. But the stunning, summer nights were my favorite. I loved going barefoot and can almost smell the desert, if I try hard. We would play "No bears are out tonight" and "Kick the can" and I'm sure others I'm forgetting. My memory book of this time in Moab is only beautiful. It is only filled with snippets of fun, love, beauty and peace. I am so grateful for that part of my life and the woman who was the heart of it!

Mother

Carma Burr was born November 18, 1941 and is still living.

She met my father in High School and was married before she graduated. She had my brother when she was 1 day over 19 years old and me 13 months later. I'm told he was a mail man, charismatic and well liked. He graduated high school 1 year ahead of my mother and I imagine mom thought she had met her happily ever after. They moved to Layton and lived on Hill Air Force base. I don't know how long it took but soon my mother found herself wondering when her husband would come home. From the very few pieces my mother has shared with me, he was drinking heavily and pursuing his music dreams somewhere, not home. He played the trumpet and would go on music trips. I know of him going to California and that it was lucky she got pregnant with me, as he was gone most of the time by then. My mom got a job working at a drive inn theatre at the concession stand. She would take my brother and I in the car, wrapped in our individual blankets and keep us in the car as she worked. It's hard to think about that in current day context. I can't believe she didn't just go home. But I imagine she was doing her best to figure out how to be married with 2 babies, in the early 1960's based on all that she knew at the time. Remember the opening statement about nutrition depends on our ability to absorb what we eat. I don't know what she was eating and what she was absorbing, metaphorically. But it seems to me that she wanted badly to have the all American dream of the happy, wholesome family. Divorce was an ugly word, right?

My aunt has described to me what occurred to get us to Moab. My grandfather went to see my mom and us kids and found no food in the fridge or cupboards and insisted she come home, so home we went - back to Moab.

She got a job at the local 5 and Dime. I remember her bringing home cinnamon bears from the candy bin and a life long obsession with cinnamon began.

Eventually, she met my step father. He was living in Moab at the time. I'm not sure how long they dated before we moved. I don't remember when they got married. I just remember being moved and learning a baby sister was on the way.

My mother was a soft spoken woman. I have no memories of her yelling at us or being loud or aggressive. By her own account, she was very shy. I remember going to "the farm". It was the home of my step father's parents, my new grandparents. It was a loud place to be. All the brothers would talk loudly, trying to talk over each other and prove their intelligence on any given topic. I can see my mom sitting at the kitchen table saying nothing. The women were in the kitchen preparing food or cleaning up or just having a different conversation than the men . I remember feeling an ache in my heart for her as the conversations carried on without her. I didn't understand why she wasn't engaging, why she didn't have something to say. Now knowing my mother better, she just didn't want to say anything. She doesn't love contention of any kind and will go to great lengths to avoid it. The energy at the farm was intense and so outside of her comfort zone that the only way she could manage it was to sit silently, enduring it. That would be a theme in her life.

My mother endured physical and emotional abuse at the hands of my stepfather for all of their relationship. The physical abuse wasn't every day. I can't say how frequently it actually occurred. But the arguments were frequent. His displeasure was daily. His criticism was relentless. For many years I couldn't understand why she put up with it. I didn't understand what options she felt she had.

Let's explore what the terrain of her life looked like, what options she truly saw. I was raised in the 60's and 70's, my mother was in her 20's and 30's. That alone is plenty of context for me as I look back at myself in my 20's and 30's. It was such a different landscape then. Her choices for managing her life were different. Family planning was different. It wasn't until 1965 that state laws banning contraceptive use by married couples became unconstitutional. But this doesn't mean it was easy to get. We rarely had health insurance and it wasn't necessarily covered then. So her ability to manage when the children came was very difficult.

How about finances? How could my mother take care of us? Again, back to the 60's and 70's, watch "Mad Men" and you'll see the jobs were limited, let alone jobs in rural counties in Northern Utah. You had waitress, store clerk and a few educated jobs like nurse or CNA (certified nursing assistant). So my mom had 5 kids and very limited ability to earn a livable income. Remember that in the United States, women were not permitted to open a bank account on their own until the 1960s. Before that, they had to obtain signed approval from their spouses. Once the Equal Credit Opportunity Act was implemented in 1974, women gained the right to get a mortgage and other credit options like credit cards.

What about emotional strength? What kind of support and understanding did my mother receive? There was no Oprah Show teaching my mother about how to deal with physical and emotional abuse. No one was discussing how you are beaten down emotionally before the physical abuse starts. No one was discussing the cycles of abuse. How would she have known about the options for support? What were the options for support? As I have grown, I have been able to understand that my mom didn't have the options I judged her for not taking. I wanted her to leave, but where would she go? What would she do?

Trauma

Let's look at the impact trauma can have. There is a wonderful book that describes the impact of trauma on the brain and our lives called "What Happened To You" by Dr. Bruce Perry and Oprah Winfrey. It helped me understand my mom's journey and my own and the journey of so many others who have experienced trauma. It focuses on the effects on the child's developing brain, but it is a great resource if you are interested in learning and shifting from "what is wrong with you" to "what happened to you". Let's look at how the brain manages trauma. To understand it, we must first understand the hierarchical organization of the human brain:

You can see that each area of the brain: brainstem, diencephalon, limbic and cortex have unique differences. The structural and functional complexity increases from the lower, simpler areas of the brainstem up to the cortex. The cortex mediates the mostly uniquely "human" functions such a speech and language, abstract cognition, and the capacity to reflect on the past and envision the future. (ref. What Happened to You by Dr. Bruce Perry and Oprah Winfrey)

Ok, so that makes sense to me. Each "level" of the brain is like a "level' of a home. The lower level is different and does specific things and as we raise up through the levels of our brain, we are able to perform more complex things. If I'm in the limbic part of my brain, I'm going to be very emotional. If I need to be more creative, I better be in my cortex.

Tree of Regulation (image from What Happened to You by Dr. Bruce Perry and Oprah Winfrey)

There's something called "the Tree of Regulation". In Dr. Perry's book it's described as follows:

"The Tree of Regulation is comprised of a set of neural networks our body uses to help us process and respond to stress. We tend to use the word 'stress' in negative ways, but stress is merely a demand on one or more of our body's many physiological systems. Hunger, thirst, cold, working out, a promotion at work: All are stressors, and stress is an essential and positive part of normal development; it's a key element in learning, mastering new skills, and building resilience. The key factor in determining whether stress is positive or destructive is the pattern of stress, as shown below."

"The long term effects of stress are determined by the pattern of stress activation. When the stress-response systems are activated in unpredictable or extreme or prolonged ways, the systems become overactive and overly reactive - in other words, sensitized. Over time, this can lead to functional vulnerability, since the stress-response systems collectively reach all parts of the brain and body, a cascade of risk in emotional, social, mental, and physical health occurs. In contrast, predictable, moderate, and controllable activation of the stress-response systems, such as that seen with developmentally appropriate challenges in education, sport, music, and so forth, can lead to a stronger, more flexible stress-response capability - i.e., resilience."

Ok, lots of sciency words here but it's basically showing us how prolonged stress that is extreme or unpredictable leads to vulnerability in all aspects of our lives. In the image below, you can see according again to Dr. Perry's book, "when a challenge or stressor occurs, it will push us out of balance, and an internal stress response will be activated to get us back in balance. With no significant stressors - no internal needs (hunger, thirst, etc.) unmet and no external complexity or threat - we will be in a state of calm. As challenges and stress increase, our internal state will shift, from alert to terror. In someone with "neurotypical" stress response systems, there is a linear state (straight diagonal line) For example, in the face of a moderate stressor (1), a proportional activation will put the individual in an active alert state. If an individual has a "sensitized" stress response (top curve) caused by their history of trauma, even the most basic daily challenges (2) will induce a state of fear. Someone with a sensitized stress response (3) will respond to even moderate stress with a terror response. This overreactivity contributes to their emotional, behavioral, and physical health problems."

This helps me understand a lot more about myself, my mom and ultimately anyone who has been through stress and/or trauma in their lives. We can understand what is going on inside their brains and bodies. I'd like to share one more image. It says so much!

"All functioning of the brain depends on the state we're in. As we move from one internal state to another, there will be a shift in the parts of the brain that are in "control" (dominant); when you are calm, for example, you are able to use the "smartest" parts of your brain (the cortex) to reflect and create. When you feel threatened, those cortical systems become less dominant, and more reactive parts of your brain begin to take over. This continuum goes from calm to terror. State-dependent shifts result in corresponding changes in a host of brain-mediated functions, including problem-solving capacity, style of thinking (or cognition), and the sphere of concern. In general, the more threatened someone feels, the more control of functioning shifts from the higher systems (cortex) to lower systems (diencephalon and brainstem). Fear shuts down many cortical systems. Adaptive behaviors during state-dependent shifts in functioning will differ depending on the 2 major adaptive response patterns (Arousal and Dissociation) are dominant for any given individual during a stressful or traumatic event."

Let's summarize - when we experience stress/trauma we can become sensitized and it then impacts how our brain (and body) responds to the world. A sensitized person will become susceptible to overreactivity and move out of the calm state more quickly. Then what happens? The functions reduce, our IQ drops, cognition drops, our adaptive (arousal and dissociation) state drops. Our lives are now about survival instead of thriving.

This brings me back to my mother. I understand her so much better now. I have context. I judged her for not being willing to move out as soon as she knew her husband was abusive to her and her kids. I judged her for not being willing to move out once I told her about the abuse I had experienced. It would take a few decades, but eventually, my love for my mother would turn to respect, adoration and an overwhelming gratitude that I was her daughter. There is no judgement left in me and my own frailties as a mother launched me directly into searching for the understanding I needed to stop judging myself and thereby, stop judging her.

Once my boys father said to me during an argument "you're going to be just like your mother!" He was using it as a weapon against me because I wasn't doing something he wanted me to do and he knew of my displeasure with my mother as well as of my judgement of her. I think I replied something like "I hope so" but deep down in that moment I was scared. But not today. Today I can say with all the conviction of my heart - I hope to be as much like my mother as I can! She is one of the strongest, most loving humans I have ever met.

Picture of me close to giving birth to my first son. It was taken in our first home in Fielding Utah.

Me

I too became a mother 1 day after my 19th birthday. I was so very excited to welcome my baby to the world. He came 3 weeks early, so I wasn't as ready as I thought I would be. In 1982, we didn't get ultra sounds so I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl. We had picked out a boy name, but none for a girl. His father was sure it was a boy, so no need to worry about girl names. I went to the hospital the night of my birthday, which is new years day, and gave birth the following afternoon. My darling boy got his own birthday and I was happy for that. I would never be the same. It is fun to see similarities between my mother and I. 1 day over 19 when we first became mothers. But I was adamant I was going to be a better mom to my children. My children would have a calm home with attentive parents. We would read to them, nurture them, laugh with them and teach them how to love themselves.

It wasn't super calm, in fact the arguing started pretty early. I left once for a few days when my son was just over 1 year old. But I wanted that "nuclear" family so bad so I went home and worked to find the way to create it. We would have 1 more beautiful son and those 2 boys have been the lights of my life ever since!

Knowing what we know now about how trauma effects the brain, especially when that trauma comes in childhood, we can predict that my story wasn't all rainbows and unicorns. I was not the Leave it to Beaver mom and we didn't have an ideal family life. There were many arguments and we were divorced after 11 years. I went straight into a state of fear (see chart above). My life was a series of reactions. Now that I have a chart, I know my IQ was around 90-70 and I was in a state of flight. I judged myself so harshly for many years for this time of my life. How could I make such horrible errors in judgement and decision making? What was wrong with me?

Over the following decades, I would come to terms with mistakes I made and learn the lessons I needed to learn. Those lessons helped me come to terms with my mom's reactions to her life and the things I had been judging her for. Oh how I wish I had known then what I know now, but that isn't how this works, is it?

I am here sharing with you now, so you can come to know what I have learned. Each of us will experience many different things. Some will have a huge impact on us, some negative, some positive. Learning how to REGULATE is going to be an important part of our discussions going forward. For now, let's remember, that it's not only what we eat, but what our body can do with the food we put in our mouths.

My mother and I, each had unique experiences and at times, were unable to process (regulate) what was happening. We weren't able to go through the Tree of Regulation successfully and found ourselves many times in one of the states from Alert to Terror. I love knowing how my brain and body works. It's through that understanding that I can find compassion for her and myself. It is how we can move into a calm state, a balanced state and state where healing can occur.

My grandmother, my mother and now I have had to gain understanding and healing through our own experiences. But the gift of being alive today is that we have the ability to learn in ways my grandmother and mother didn't. It is my prayer this Mother's Day week that we each can find the healing for any of the experiences in our lives that are left unhealed. We can find balance, regulation, healing. We can find calm and joy and love.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!