So I started three different posts this morning and finally decided on this one. This will probably be one of the hardest posts I will ever write.
My mom was an alcoholic as slightly touched upon here. When I was little I always loved singing. I would sing anything and everything on the radio at home, in the car, at school I was in the choir. Singing was so much fun for me. During one of her drunken rages she told me no matter what I did I would never be Shania Twain or Reba McEntire. Knowing my own mother didn’t believe I had any talent was hard and caused a lot of self-confidence issue that I still struggle with.
Mom had to create an illusion to everyone around her that she was June Cleaver and we had the perfect family. Reality was FAR from the illusion she projected. She remarried the same year her divorce with my dad was final. She met her husband in counseling she was taking for her anger and divorce. What I found out later was he was in counseling for abusing his daughter sexually. Then comes along a woman with 3 young girls at home and he pounced on it. She knew what he had done to his own daughter but thought she needed a man to make herself whole and he was willing.
When I was around 11 or 12 was when he started making comments to me. He never touched me but I was abused by him. I remember one time sitting on the living room floor watching Saved by the Bell and he came up behind me kicking me lightly in the back trying to get me to cuss at him by calling me a bitch, a slut, and a whore. I refused because I knew what he was doing wasn’t right but I didn’t fully understand it at the time.
On October 7th, 1996 my sister finally told a teacher at school what this man was doing. They sprung in to action and CPS took us from my mothers home. My dad took us in while we were wards of the state for two years. During that two years mom could have gotten us back if she left that man. She didn’t because she didn’t want to lose her house. More self confidence issues ensued because my mom chose a house over her children. Then she moved 1,000 miles away so she wouldn’t have to admit to her friends that she lost custody. She told everyone she got a job offer there and we wanted to stay with our dad in our home state.
Things were rocky for a few years obviously. She had supervised visitation only and even phone calls had to be monitored by my dad or stepmom. Eventually we started talking again. She was my mom and I wanted to try to change her mind. To show her I was worth loving because at the time I didn’t think I was. We would fight and not talk much for a year or two and then back together for a year or two. I always hoped she would come to her senses and dump the husband but she never did.
October of 2010 she came in to town and we go in to it again. I didn’t call her on Christmas and vice versa. When Mother’s Day came around my husband told me to call her and I refused. I never knew how to accept that the June Cleaver mom projected was never going to be my mom and that angered me.
On Saturday, June 18th of this year mom was rushed to the hospital in severe pain. It turned out her kidneys shut down. After further tests it was determined she had double pneumonia, kidney failure, and a blood infection that caused her blood pressure to plummet. She was dieing and dieing fast. By Sunday morning her hands and feet were blue. By Monday morning she was dead. I never got to say goodbye. I had to chance to say Happy Mother’s Day and I didn’t. None of her children were on speaking terms with her at the time of her death. None of us ever were able to say goodbye and we will have to live the rest of our lives knowing we could have but we didn’t.
I struggle daily with moms death. On one hand I want to stay angry at her for feeling like she never put us first. Part of me just wants my mom back. We had good times to and I don’t want to vilify my mother but she was no angel. I know this is long but there is such a complex relationship here and have to tell it how it was for me. My next post will be a happy time with Mom. I need to make sure there is a balance.