I wasn’t kind enough to my mother in her lifetime. I resented her for EVERYTHING and always freely shared that with her. AND, of course, I scared her to death with my addictions.
And yet, all I ever wanted was for her to acknowledge to me what she had done wrong and how her choices had hurt me. She actually did, in her own way – pretty cool, if you think about it.
I suppose I felt kind of validated. But I still gave her hell. Never once did I think how my rotten actions effected HER.
While my mom was dying, I was active in all my addictions. In fact, they got worse, so terrifying did I find her illness.
I wish, more than anything, that I could have been the woman I am today, while my mother was so very sick. Sometimes, I take comfort in believing that she now knows I’m okay and safe. But even that still feels selfish – it’s comforting to me.
Mother’s Day is a mixed bag. I love honoring all the wonderful women in my life who are amazing mothers (especially, my sister, a truly excellent mom.) And I’ll be working all day at the restaurant, beaming at mom’s of all ages, wishing them a happy day with all my heart.
Still, I wish I’d been far better to my own mom.