11 months

it has been almost 11 months since mom died. in some ways, it feels like it’s only been weeks. and yet, i feel like it’s been forever. i have been through so many ranges of emotion. sometimes, changing from one minute to the next.

the grief. it was unlike anything i’ve ever experienced. i would be fine one minute. then I would be crying the next. i couldn’t explain my tears to anyone, because I didn’t understand them myself. there was a heaviness—or darkness—that wouldn’t lift. a sadness that wouldn’t go away.

the anger. i didn’t expect the anger. i didn’t expect the painful lies that were unveiled not long after her death. lies that turned my world upside down. the lies caused so much confusion. so much uncertainty. i didn’t know who i was any more. sometimes i still don’t.

after finding out some disturbing truths, i found myself wondering if she had loved me. if she loved me, then why did she lie to me? maybe she was ashamed and didn’t want me to think bad of her. but…here i am, after the fact, and what am i supposed to think of her now? a mom is supposed to love her child. to protect her child from heartache and pain, if possible. a mom is supposed to be trusted. a mom isn’t supposed to be the one who causes the pain and heartache. one of the hardest things for me has been not even being able to confront her. not being able to ask her questions. not being able to ask her to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. instead, i feel like i have been left in the darkness with no light at all, and no way out. what am i supposed to do with that reality?

the entire 11 months since her passing, i have been dealing with her son— my brother. he’s made my life a living hell. my mom enabled him for so many years…basically, his entire 44 years of life. as a result of that, he feels entitled, and expects me (and everyone else) to cater to him. to give him his way. unfortunately for him, i am NOT my mother. i will never, and i repeat NEVER enable him. i will NEVER trust him or believe a word out of his mouth. he is incapable of telling the truth, and he will lie to anyone and everyone to get his way.

regardless of the pain, the anger, and the grief, i miss her.

so many times, i have picked up my phone to call her. to tell her about something i knew she’d want to know. something good that happened to me that day. or just to tell her that i love and miss her. i miss her voice. the way she’d complain about her neighbors or the weather. i miss hearing her ask how i am doing. i miss her telling me to hug my kids and tell them that nana loves them.

am i still angry with her? definitely. but i have come to realize that i can be angry with her and miss her at the same time.

i can resent the lies and the deception, and still long to hug her one more time.

i can accept that she’s gone, and still want to spend a weekend alone with her.

i have a choice. i can let the grief and deception destroy me. or i can let it make me a stronger and better person.

i am choosing the latter.

guilt – an ugly beast.

no person should be able to force feelings of guilt on you. and yet, they do. they may do it blatantly, and all up in your face. or they may do it subtly, without you even realizing it. either way, the effects can be life-altering, to say the least. i loved my mom with all my heart, but it wasn’t until she passed that i fully realized the weight of guilt i had been living under most of my life. it started when i was in junior high, and has carried over into these months following her death. and quite frankly, i am over it. wether she meant to or not, no one should have that kind of control over another person. not ever. of course, as a kid, we want to please our parents. we want their approval, and most of all, we want to feel their love. when something traumatic and out of our control happens to us as a kid, our parents should be our “safe place.” but sadly, that’s not always the case. and in my situation, it definitely wasn’t the case. i thought i had done the right thing – the safe thing by going to my mom. at the time, she told me that coming to her was the right thing to do. but after a few months, her words and actions said something very different. she no longer looked at me with affection. and she began blaming me for what had happened. i was crushed, to say the least. i was 11 years old, and couldn’t make sense out of what had happened to me, let alone make sense out of my mom’s behavior towards me.

i guess you could say that this behavior became the norm and somehow, i learned to live with it. it didn’t get any better in high school; as a matter of fact, i would say it got worse. i would do everything i could to make my mom happy, to gain her approval, but I don’t think i ever did.

right before i left for my second year of college, i did something minor that made my mom so angry that she decided not to come with my dad as he moved me into my very first apartment. more guilt. six months after turning 20, i found myself pregnant and alone. it took so much courage to call my parents, and i was terrified. my mom answered the phone, so i told her first. her response? “oh my god, your dad is going to be crushed let me tell him.” insert more guilt.

i always wanted more for my relationship with my mom, but sadly, never had it. we went through seasons where sometimes things were somewhat sweet between us, but sadly, things were never really the way i had longed for them to be. and even in my adult years, as i became a wife and a mom, she still seemed to find ways to heap on the guilt. even after she passed, i would find myself feeling guilty over things. thankfully, my therapist has helped me to see that I am not responsible for my mom’s choices…not the choices that led to her death, and not the repeated choice she made to enable her son. and even though i am still cleaning up the messes she left behind, i am getting to the point where i can finally deal with things without the guilt.

why simply undone?

it was time for me to start writing again, thus the reason for this blog. so much craziness. so much chaos. confusion. grief. not nearly enough laughter, or reasons to laugh. one thing these past six months have taught me is that things definitely are not what they seem. ever. just when I think I have it together, I don’t. something happens, or some family secret is revealed (and believe me, there are many) and life as I knew it is no more. I used to laugh so easily, and now, I cry at the drop of a hat. I am in a constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop. And quite frankly, I hate it. I have an amazing husband who loves me, and who, thank God, isn’t scared of the life he has with me. when we got married, neither one of us had any idea of the painful, devastating seasons we would encounter together. and yet, we’re together and more in love than ever before. thank God. I have beautiful adult children who love me and are a constant source of support and joy in my life. they too have stuck around, even through the craziness that’s been revealed in my life. I’ve lost both of my parents now, my mom more recently. and who knew that someone could flip your life upside down from their grave. but holy hell, my mom has done just that. I thought I knew her. but clearly I didn’t. I knew she was an enabler to my drug-addict brother, taking him in time after time, allowing him to both run and ruin her life at the same time. and while she was loving on him, she was repeatedly pushing me away. I tried blaming it on her depression, but I’m done with that. I’m done making excuses for her as well as for her son. and yet, here I am, stuck picking up the pieces of the mess my mom left behind. the mess, a.k.a. her son and his druggie friends. her son took advantage of her before she died, and he’s continuing to do so now that she’s gone. I can’t wrap my mind around his appalling behavior. I just can’t. I wish I could look the other way and not have to deal with him, but no. until my mom’s estate is all wrapped up, I am stuck dealing with his crap. so when people ask me how I am handling everything, in my mind, I find myself saying that I am simply undone.