Strange viewpoint from a 50something

Posts tagged ‘love and anger’

Momma…

She’s gone.

I don’t know that I have processed it fully. My brother called me this morning to let me know she died in her sleep. I was not prepared for the news. My greatest fear has now been realized. I will not see her again in this life. My heart is heavy, those feelings of love and hurt are so thick.

After about a hundred phones calls and 3/4 box of tissues, it has been decided I will return to St Louis tomorrow. My sister is due to fly in Thursday. There’s not much else for us to do at this point, except be together. My Mom’s wishes were very clear and easy. She did it that way for us. So, we will get together as siblings and we will cry and we will remember and we will cry some more. Our time there will be limited so the task of taking care of her things… ugh… I can’t even fathom. But it has to be done. And by us. Together. Just like she wanted.

I looked at myself in the mirror a while ago.. the older me on the outside shows the signs of hours of crying with puffy eyes and a pink tissue abused nose. And deep in my eyes… I saw my little-girl self looking back asking, “what’m I gonna do now?”

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When there’s a way.. the will isn’t far behind,,

I am a few days away from returning to St Louis. My Mom has found a new wave of life to ride. So much more restricted, but she lives on. In talking to both my siblings, I’ve learned that she is even being left alone for a couple hours at a time!! I know my Mom has been insisting on this… to go from ~happy she lives by herself to having one of us there 24/7~ I can only guess that she is rejoicing in the quiet! I’ve spoken to her on the phone and when you’re not there, you picture in your mind what you want to see. So in my mind, she is her old -I-can-do-it-myself- Mom. In reality though, she is doing well, she’s found a new routine for her day, with very little movement involved. Her voice sounded tired this last chat I had with her… but her scrappy attitude is still intact!!

I am back in the state of worry I was in when I came home a couple weeks ago. The situation has not changed. It’s still the same reasoning. I am there to watch over my Momma. To take turns with my siblings, to wait an undetermined amount of time until she dies. This ticks me off. So not fair. If there is one thing I have learned… life is not fair. In fact, it’s harsh as hell. But the small sliver of bright in this muck is that I can still talk to her. All my life I have told Mom things, I have confided in her, shared more with her than most women do with their Moms. She has always been my go to girl when it comes to advice. I find it difficult to see my life without her ear and her words.

During the 10 days I was there before, so much time was spent learning how to care for and deal with my Mom as she loses her battle with emphysema. Hospice had multiple visits to acclimate us to all her needs now and in her short future. These days there is a new flow to her day that I will fall into. A routine for me to learn and be a part of. For 2 weeks I will have downtime that I cannot find in my real life. With my erratic schedule (thank you AltasAir!) I have no normal type of daily ritual. Time to do things always seem to be interrupted by something or other.

So for me to just…. sit. And…. wait.

I will enjoy all the days I have remaining with her. I will tell her all the dramas I have always told her about… I will tell her the secrets I tell only my momma.. I will share my latest craft idea which will invoke an idea that she will share with me.. I will share the funniest things I can come up with to hear her laughter..

I will..

I will..

I will..

I will find all the will I will need.

Before I get there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Open letter to my baby.

Dear Son of mine,

To say I am angry would be an understatement. To be honest I really don’t know who I am more angry with.. you or me. You see I am the one who raised you. I am the one who taught you respect and values. Today it seems I have failed. But the blame is not all mine, is it?

How dare you talk to me the way you did. How dare you make such hurtful remarks to me because you didn’t get the help you were calling for. If your life is a mess, why am I at fault? You are a 26 year old man who’s been making his own decisions for a long time now. But you call and cry to me about how things are so bad, you are hungry and you’ve been in bed for a week, and you even talk about taking your own life! (What Mother wants to hear her child say that???) Today you told me that I don’t help you but I help your sister. Today you told me that you didn’t care if you were hurting my feelings, because you are my son I should drop everything and rescue you… “if Bry called and needed something I would….” When I reminded you of a time where I helped you out (just recently, in fact!) and I still haven’t received all payback, you said… “really Mom? I am the kid… I am in trouble, you are suppose to help me….” You played the guilt card?? On ME?? Right now you are so full of your own self loathing shit that you forgot who I am. I was where you are many times, for many different reasons. But I did it with 2 kids in tow. I wasn’t the greatest parent.. but you kids didn’t go without anything.. food, clothes, roof over your head. We didn’t have alot because I didn’t know how to budget or save or be smart. I made alot of bad choices and we just didn’t have much. I had so much debt, I had so little money. I did alot of crying. I did alot of whining about the place I was at. But I didn’t lay around… I worked harder. Got an extra job. Did what was needed.

I know I made many mistakes raising you, but the basics were there. That all went out the window when you didn’t stand up for me to that nightmare wife of yours and tell her “don’t talk to my Momma like that”. And since you didn’t, 8 years later now you talk to me like that. Learned behavior. Begging for help and then using any means to get what you need… that is a Felicia move.. and you have it down pat. As you know I don’t take it from her… and I will not take it from you either. You want to blame all your problems on me… go ahead. You want to lash out and be ugly to me… go ahead. You want to go around being pissed off at me… go ahead. Will I forgive you? Yes… at some point. Not without this written reminder.

I have taught both you and your sister that you can do, or be, or acquire anything in this life that you want. The choice is yours. I love you dearly my son… but grow the fuck up.