1931060_34489683700_4667_nMOM – This woman we call Mom has certain expectation.  We expect so much from that lady and yet during the time they are giving us what they have to give us we don’t see her, we don’t hear her, we don’t even appreciate her.

My Mom, we had the weirdest relationship that I have ever had.  I now know she loved me, I now know she also didn’t know what to do with me.  To understand why she was the way she was, I guess I should explain that her parents, my grandparents, should have been jailed for the way they treated her.  My grandfather was a philandering, drunk, horrible father, pig.  My grandmother, was more of a woman than a mom.  When you think of women that think with their ovaries, this is the woman they were talking about.  She would beat my mom for all the wrong doings of my grandfather.  When my mom was a child, she cried allot.  So to “fix” her they would dunk her into a barrel full of water.  When they brought her back up, they would ask “Are you done crying” and naturally she was hysterical at this point, well down she would go again.  One other time, she told me of, she said Happy New Year to a school mate.  This school friend happen to be a boy and my grandfather heard her and beat her an inch of her life.  At which point, my great-grandmother had had enough and took my mother from them.  Thank god or I would not have been born.

So now that you have an idea on how badly mom was abused. My relationship with her was not one of physical abuse but she was not the greatest mom to a female.  She was wonderful to my brothers.  A little too good.  In some ways they are soft and unavailable.  She made them weak in so many ways.  But I am not here to bash them. I am here to discuss my relationship with MY mother not their mother.  She was never available to me.  She was rarely kind.  I would get 1 hug a year and that was on New Years Eve, at which time she would break down in tears.  I would wonder if she was crying for me or her.  She wouldn’t cry until she hugged me.  So I would always wonder.

During my late teen and early 20’s these were years that we were at our best or worst.  She would say things to me that made my heart stop and make my skin crawl.  But I couldn’t get away.  In some ways I had a connect or attraction to her that was not healthy.  I know that now.  It took me almost 15 years to move away from needing her, from needing her every approval or even a kind word.

I know now she was a huge part in the ending of both my 1st two marriages.  I am not saying she didn’t do it all by herself.  My ex’s and I have most of the blame but she definitely had a hand in it.  I was so stuck to her, so dependent on her.  To this day I cant explain what she had over me but I know that I had a very sick attachment to her.  I allowed her to guide ever step of my life until I was approximately 35.  When I finally saw what I was allowing her to do and I walked away.  I stopped going there when i felt weak, or even thinking she could save me.

The year she died, she spent 8 months in a hospital, Five of which she was in a medically induced coma.  I spent a good part of that year yelling at her.  Imagine how ridiculous that image was, she in a coma and me yelling at her.  I yelled at her for not being there and not being the mom I never had but always wanted.  I yelled at her for months and not one single reply.  How could she, she was in a coma after all.  When in her last bout of her illness, she was awake and crying in pain.  I leaned over to comfort her and told her the medicine was coming.  And she said “Thank you” I replied “Don’t worry its coming”  She replied her last words ” NO, thank you for being my daughter, I Love You”  She never spoke again.  She passed away 5 days later.

With her passing I was free.  Free of all the past angst of no knowing if my mom loved me.  With her last words I was free.  I now knew that she loved me.  But what good did that do me?  She was gone and we could never build on the new information.  She was gone.

It has now been 8 years, today is her 67th birthday. I cried liked a 5 year old girl.  The same feeling I felt the night she left us.  I have said this to many people who’s parents recently died.  When they leave we are suddenly a 5 year old child lost and left behind by their parent.  I cried because regardless of how bad she made me feel over and over I love her.  She was my mom, she was in a weird way the only parent that didn’t leave me. I cried because I would rather have her here with me to fight than not.

I keep reminding my kids, that some day I will not be here to bother them.  To take every moment in as if it was our last.  Remember this moment I would say.  Remember when we cook together, remember how I smell.  I want my kids never to think I didn’t love them. I don’t ever want them to feel the need to scream at a comatose body for answers.  I want to give them the answers now, now while I can.

I also want them to remember her for all that she was, she was a positive, music loving person.  She was a great friend, she helped everyone she could.  She was a wonderful grandmother.  She loved my kids so much.

This blog is not about trying to make her a monster, it about the fact that we are all a full person.  We are complex people. The reasons why we are what we are today is that we have a past.  We cant ever pass judgement on someone for only 1 scene you have witnessed.  There is so much more to every person.  My mom was a woman of strength and dignity.  She was a woman that survived abuse and the  men who used and abused her.  She was and will always be MY MOM.

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