Her blind acceptance of authority taught me the importance of questioning authority.
Her lack of acceptance of differences - in skin color, in values, in politics, in thought processes - taught me what fine people we miss out on by seeing only differences.
Her blind support of a religion she does not believe in sent me in search of true spirituality.
The ramifications of her violent nature (although I share it) reminds me that violence is never an answer.
Her belief that honesty consists only of not telling lies has taught me to be honest with myself first and foremost.
Her misery has taught me to make whatever effort is necessary to change.
The energy she has expended over how things appear has made me dedicate myself to how things are... and let their appearances be a reflection of that.
Most importantly her inability or refusal to communicate if that communication might involve confrontation or an inner look at a not-so-desirable character trait has taught me to suffer any pain that looking at myself might cause. It has taught me to brave the choppy waters that relationships entail so that I will never miss out on what might result.
So...when I am longing for the connection with my mother that she is not open to I must look inside of the fine woman I have become...with her help...and take my mothering from that.