I wrote in my last post that there has been some resolution with my mother during her battle with cancer. It has been the silver lining of a very dark cloud. It is sad that, for some people, it takes a tragedy to realize what's truly important in life.
To understand the resolution I have experienced, it is necessary to describe our relationship before the cancer. I spent the majority of my life growing up thinking and feeling that my mother didn't love me. I was as sure of this as I was the the fact that the sun shines daily. My mother was very distant with my sister and me. She did not share her feelings. She did not say, "I love you." She did not hug us, play with us, watch TV with us, read to us, or anything. She kept to herself, did things around the house, and slept A LOT. During the majority of the day, my sister and I were like little Rugrats who were supposed to entertain ourselves, stay out of trouble, and not bother her.
She kept us at a very far distance emotionally. She didn't even hold us much as infants. She only held us if she had to. Otherwise we were in carriers, playpens, cribs, highchairs, etc. I have home movies from when I was a baby, and it is weird to see her feeding me bottles time and again while I sat in a carrier right in front of her. Even with my children (her grandchildren), she has been uncomfortable with closeness. I nursed all four of my children, and my mother used to complain that they wouldn't take a bottle from her. I came home one day and found out why. She had them propped up on the couch between two pillows right across from her and was feeding them the bottle that way. I just remember thinking, "She is SO clueless." My sister and I could not sit next to her or, Heaven forbid, sit in her lap. She would push us away. She has done the same thing with my children. She has a very difficult time being close to people. I found it interesting that she she tells my children she loves them but didn't tell me. Then it occurred to me one day, that she only says to them, "I love you, too." because THEY say, "I love you" first. Well, as a child, it never occurred to me to ever tell my mother I loved her. It was an exchange that never existed and just wasn't modeled and nurtured.
My saving grace was my father who was the opposite with my sister and me. (He was also sexually abusive--setting that aside right now) Our father genuinely enjoyed spending time with us any chance he got. He played games with us, acted silly with us, rode rides at the fair with us, took us fishing, told us he loved us, hugged us, let us site next to him, etc. I never doubted he loved me, even despite the negative aspects of that relationship. Though our father had the downfall of alcoholism and sexual abuse which went hand-in-hand, my sister and I have always said that if it weren't for him, we would have experienced no love and affection, not real attachment, and grown up like little Russian orphan babies.
I learned from my mom not to be a bother. This affects me to this day as I don't want to bother people with my problems, and I worry about being a "bother" to my therapists. I learned that it was never ok to "need" anything. To need something was to be dependent on it, and that was viewed as most unfavorable thing. I learned never to cry because this angered her, and her anger scared me. Tears from me was met with angry words, ridicule, throwing of objects, or physical harm. I learned to never show fear, because fear elicited that same response. I also learned I had to be "ok" at all times. If I were to "fall", I had to get right back up as quickly as possible. I had to be "fine". Not to "be fine" was looked at as a weakness and frowned upon. Sometimes it was looked at as an inconvenience.....like I have bothered her yet again.
When I was in my early 20's I learned that my mother was sexually abused by her mother. At that point, at lot of her actions "made sense." I understood why intimacy was so difficult for her. I realized why my own emotions and tears were so devastating to her. I understood why she felt it was bad to "need", oi depend on, anything or anyone. My mom was functioning from her unhealed history.
Once I had my own child, it occurred to me that my mom MUST love me. How could she not? I decided that she does love me, as it was unfathomable that anyone would give birth to a child and not love that child. I didn't feel that love, but I felt certain she had to love me.
As the years went on, the relationship with my mother stayed tense and distant. She remained unaffectionate and cold. She was not supportive of me unless I was doing what she wanted me to do. She criticized me for valuing the time I had with my kids when they were small and choosing to not to work full time. She always felt I should put the kids in day care and work full time. Ideas I had, dreams I had, were shot down in an instant. She was ever pessimistic. I finally realized that any time I was excited about something and called my mother to tell her, she shot my excitement and brought me down. I bought the freakin' house she wanted me to buy even though I couldn't afford it. Why? Because she shot down the one I liked and said it was "on the wrong side of the tracks" and too "cheap." I tried living up to her standard and never could. I was a failure, a disappointment.
Fairly recently I realized how much she brought me down and discouraged me. When I had tried to find a teaching job in my new state for several years, I decided to go to plan B and go into Social Work. My mother thought that was ridiculous! She discouraged me from going back to school to get another Master's Degree. She insisted that I "should" be able to get a job and expressed great anger over the fact that I couldn't. Of course I was angered and frustrated by it for awhile. I wasn't able to get a teaching job because I "cost too much". I have too much experience and too much education. (This economy...go figure.) However, eventually I accepted it. It is what it is, and I can either wallow in that fact or I can do something else. I have always wanted to do social work, so this was a prospect I was excited about. My mother wanted me to just get a regular job at a bank or something. She said that I should give up on the "career" idea and just get a job. Well, I disagreed. Not that to work at a bank or other such business is a bad thing, but if I was going to lose my career as a special education teacher (which I adored!), I wasn't going to be a victim of circumstances. I was going to find something that I would equally love. She shot me down so much that she actually put off my decision for another year. By the time my mother was diagnosed with cancer, I had essentially written her off. She was unloving, unsupportive, negative, and overall brought me down every time I was in contact with her.
I knew something was wrong with my mom when she called me one day and told me she felt like if being a social worker was something that I really want to do, then I should go for it. Suddenly she seemed to get it. She realized all I have ever wanted in life is to be able to work directly with people on a meaningful level. She realized how intrinsically important that has always been to be. For me, if I am not doing that, I am doing something that is essentially meaningless. A few days later I got the call from her that she has cancer. She has stage IV lung cancer.
Since then, she has seemed to reevaluate things in life. She seems to have connected with what's truly important in life. It's not about the amount of money you make. It's not about the image you portray. It's not about "success", power, and independence. It is about your hopes, your dreams, love, relationships, family, and friends. She used to have the mentality that my sister and I should "settle" in the same way she did. It bothered her that we had ambitions, hopes, dreams. She understands now. Now she supports us in having the best life we can have. She supports us in whatever it is that makes us happy...not what makes her happy. Prior to the cancer I recall her saying, "I love you" twice: once when I was 14, and again when I was in my 30's and in the hospital after a suicide attempt. Now, I have lost count. She tells me she loves me all the time. She tells me how important I am to her. She hugs me. Her negativity has washed away. It is as if she has realized all the things she was so negative about in this world were petty little grievances hardly worth the energy anymore. Though my mom had always pushed us so hard to fight, by strong, be tough, she had always been so very weak spiritually and emotionally. This experience has helped her find her strength. She is not "settling" herself anymore. She is fighting, and she is on a quest to have the life she has wanted and the relationship with us that I think she always wanted but just couldn't manage.
I now really believe and feel that despite everything my mother loves me and always has. She just was never able to express it before. Her and I have a common history having both been sexually abused. However, we grew up in different times (therapy was frowned upon in her day), and have coped very differently. I think my mother had a lot of emotional baggage, and she did the best she could. I will always hurt to some degree because I did not experience mother love growing up. It is a feeling I will never know from the child perspective. I will never know what it's like to be a kid with a Mommy who loves and protects me, nurtures me and guides me. That I still grieve. However, I am grateful to be able to have the relationship with my mom that I have at this time. Some resolution has been met. Forgiveness and understanding has been achieved. Life goes on, and we write another chapter.
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