Mum
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Ever since I lost my original blog, this one has been rather impersonal. Partly a decision, partly a function of the times as of late...However I've decided to start a "series", if you will, describing the cast of characters in my life. One per day, maybe, but I fear the one I am starting off with could take up an entire blog theme of her own. My Mum, as she signs herself in cards. I was always well fed, relatively well dressed, had nice birthdays, full Christmas experiences, made cookies, and crafts. I was brought up well.
Now follows the But...we remember, perhaps even dwell on the things we didn't have or receive rather than those that we did. That's why I preface this with what I had. O.K. the BUT. It is my mother's birthday in a week and I was shopping for a card and wrapping paper today. As I looked through the birthday cards for mothers, I was once again reminded of how strange my relationship with my mother is. Every card, with a syrupy saying or even a nice and thoughtful saying are not appropriate. Thanks for being the best mother...nope. I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate...nope. Maybe I should just break down and buy one, anyway. Look for her reaction. Her blank stare. She'd probably say something sarcastic like how come so sappy??? Because she can't stand the thought of a real touching moment between the two of us. She is just not that person and never will be. We will never have that relationship. So why buy a card like that and bring on her sarcasm? I again settle for a generic birthday card; Hope you have a great day...yup. Safe, no syrup. No lies. No pretending that there is something there has never been. How do you deal with the fact that your own mother has never, ever said I love you, given you a hug, a kiss, told you that you have turned out to be a great person, said I am proud of you. Nothing. Empty. Oh for heavens sake, don't be so silly. Perhaps the reason why I tend to be an over-achiever, Type A personality, get along with everybody. If I can't satisfy my mother, I can at least try to satisfy everyone else, myself. I am 34 and have achieved great success in life; wonderful job, home, family...here's the irony. In part, I have her to thank for this. Because I needed to acheive. To prove my worth to a mentally yes even verbally abusive mother. She is sick. She has a disease. I thought I knew this at eleven, but wasn't sure. The uncertainty drove me crazy at the time. The certainty makes me feel capable of having a relationship today with her, such as it is. One of my best memories was me about 5, in the shopping cart. We'd stop by the candy counter and she'd order a bag of jujubes. Every time. Hand them over to me and smile. She loved me! She bought me candy, after all. To this day, I am crazy about jujubes. So there is an intro. My family saga begins....don't read it if you don't like it.
Now follows the But...we remember, perhaps even dwell on the things we didn't have or receive rather than those that we did. That's why I preface this with what I had. O.K. the BUT. It is my mother's birthday in a week and I was shopping for a card and wrapping paper today. As I looked through the birthday cards for mothers, I was once again reminded of how strange my relationship with my mother is. Every card, with a syrupy saying or even a nice and thoughtful saying are not appropriate. Thanks for being the best mother...nope. I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate...nope. Maybe I should just break down and buy one, anyway. Look for her reaction. Her blank stare. She'd probably say something sarcastic like how come so sappy??? Because she can't stand the thought of a real touching moment between the two of us. She is just not that person and never will be. We will never have that relationship. So why buy a card like that and bring on her sarcasm? I again settle for a generic birthday card; Hope you have a great day...yup. Safe, no syrup. No lies. No pretending that there is something there has never been. How do you deal with the fact that your own mother has never, ever said I love you, given you a hug, a kiss, told you that you have turned out to be a great person, said I am proud of you. Nothing. Empty. Oh for heavens sake, don't be so silly. Perhaps the reason why I tend to be an over-achiever, Type A personality, get along with everybody. If I can't satisfy my mother, I can at least try to satisfy everyone else, myself. I am 34 and have achieved great success in life; wonderful job, home, family...here's the irony. In part, I have her to thank for this. Because I needed to acheive. To prove my worth to a mentally yes even verbally abusive mother. She is sick. She has a disease. I thought I knew this at eleven, but wasn't sure. The uncertainty drove me crazy at the time. The certainty makes me feel capable of having a relationship today with her, such as it is. One of my best memories was me about 5, in the shopping cart. We'd stop by the candy counter and she'd order a bag of jujubes. Every time. Hand them over to me and smile. She loved me! She bought me candy, after all. To this day, I am crazy about jujubes. So there is an intro. My family saga begins....don't read it if you don't like it.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 27, 2005 at 8:08 PM.
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10:50 PM
My Mom has mellowed over the years, but I'd say there were many moments where I'd diagnose her as having psychotic breaks. I didn't know what they were then as a child, but looking back I can see it. It *is* hard when trying to make a connection, a real loving connection where the other doesn't have the capacity to reciprocate. But we keep trying, don't we.
~Deb