When my mother was a small girl, when out in the garden during the summer, her grandmother would chase her, captive butterflies between her fingers. She would hold them by their slight bodies, their coloured wings flapping. When she caught up with my mother, she would set the butterfly free inside the tent of my mother's skirt, their wings brushing against her naked legs.
My great-grandmother, when butterflies were in short supply, would do the same to my mother with the torso of the chicken she’d be after decapitating for the dinner. The bird’s wings would still be flapping and he'd be creating a big fuss- understandable seeing as he had literally lost his head!
This left my mother with a phobia of all winged creatures, though despite her fears, she is a nature and bird lover and feeds the birds each winter. Just don't put one in a confined space with her. As a child, she would never allow me have butterfly hair bobbins or dresses with butterfly patterns. She couldn't view them as pretty.
When I would accompany her to mass as a child, the butterflies would dance in the air of the high vaulted church. She would not allow them to leave her sight line. An observer may have thought that she was captivated by the beauty of their performance. She was captivated alright - glued to her seat in fear. My eyes would follow hers and as a result, I have a small touch of the same phobia.
As an adult, my fear has pretty much subsided, though hers has not. I can now clear a room of butterflies for her, she cowering in another part of the house than the intruder. When the job is done, she'll look at me as if I've taken on a burglar. 'You're very good, you're very good, aren't you great to be able to do that now?'
I still wouldn't wear or choose a butterfly pattern. Though whenever I see them, I think of my mother. And thinking about them tonight is leading me to think of her and Mother's Day tomorrow.
Happy Mother's Day to my own mother and to all my readers that are mothers.
13 comments:
Ahh great post. I love butterflies and all they represent.
I like your blog. Your post has a sweet bit of nostalgic. It brings back memories.
Manzanita
Wanna by a duck
I can understand totally because I am scared of cats! Something happened in my childhood that made me scared of cats and my reactions are exactly the same as your Mom's. Except there are cats everywhere and EVERYBODY loves cats!
Thank you for your Mother's Day wishes.
oh, we have the same topic, too--butterflies!
am so sorry about what happened to your mom...and it's a good thing you've overcome yours.
mymy
My bric-a-brac
Oh my word! That must have been terrifying for a little girl.
I can understand why it became a phobia.
Oh my word! That must have been terrifying for a little girl.
I can understand why it became a phobia.
A beautiful post - my favourite mothers' day post yet.
Funny, isn't it, the things that get passed down?
~M
What a wonderful post. I hope your mother enjoyed her Mother's Day!
We all have our fears to face. I'm fairly certain I'm borderline phobic of criticism, which is a real thing as Google has attested to in a recent search.
But at least you've seemed to have overcome yours for the most part, to which I say, congrats!
I think this is quite possibly the first person I've heard of being afraid of butterflies, but I can completely understand why - especially with the chicken. No wonder she was scared!
And it is interesting how even emotions can be transferred from one generation to another.
Butterflies rock. They are the most beautiful creatures and bring such life to the world!
Man, that chicken part of the post was so gross! My mom tells how after her grandmother cut off the chicken's head, it would run around and chase her with its head cut off. It freaked her out. Aren't grandmother's something?
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