It's Not Easy

In the last 14 months, Gary and I have lost three parents.  Our daughters have lost three grandparents.  Our grandchildren have lost three of their five great-grandparents,  We have grieved, we have planned funerals, we have stood at grave sites, and we have cried.  We pick up the pieces and move on.

But this time is different.

Am I sad? Yes.  But I am not sad because I will miss my mother.  I am sad because I missed having a mother for most of my life.  The reality is that now I never will have a mother that really loves me.  The hope for that death-bed confession of how she is sorry that she abused us verbally and physically over the years, that she really was proud of us even though she continually berated us as adults, that she really was proud of our accomplishments even though she never acknowledged them to us, that we were important to her, even though she maintained to the last days before her surgery that she hoped the valve replacement would make her feel better so she could enjoy her house and her things.  

Maybe she doesn't remember how she treated us over the years.  Maybe she doesn't remember the arguments, the screams, the yelling, the hitting, the put-downs, the attempts to ruin every good thing that happened to us or every happy occasion.  Maybe she was so used to making fun of us, insulting, finding fault, and reminding us of our struggles that she just couldn't see anything good in us.

Jim reminded me that I have learned from my mother. I have learned the kind of mother not to be.  He also reminded me that Agnes was a good role model for me, and I am so blessed that she was my mother-in-law.   Plus Greta and I agreed that we do have several good traits we inherited.  We both like to cook.  We enjoy music and flowers.  She passed on the love of reading to not only us but also to her granddaughters. She and Dad had a nice house and never went hungry because there were always meals on the table for all of us.  

But the things I really needed - love, support, votes of confidence, pride in my accomplishments and the family Gary and I created. None of that was there.  She may have told others that she was proud of us, but she never told us.  Just hearing "I am so proud of you because you worked hard and earned two college degrees" instead of "just because you have two college degrees doesn't mean anything.  You just think you are better than everyone else. You still have no common sense" would have made a world of difference to me. And the list grows longer.......

It's not easy. It is hard to lose a parent.  It is hard to say the final good-byes. But it is also hard to know that our lives, Greta's and mine, were so traumatic and she never acknowledged the harm that she did to us.  Maybe she was ill.  Maybe she just didn't care.  Maybe she was incapable of love.  Maybe she really didn't want us and made us suffer because of that. Maybe she wanted us to feel like we weren't successful and happy because she didn't have the opportunity to go to school and have a career that was rewarding. Maybe she wanted everyone to feel sorry for her and be a martyr for all of the bad treatment she supposedly suffered from her children. We never could determine what that bad treatment was that we inflicted on her but she was quick to blame us for everything that was wrong in her life. 

It's over.  It won't be easy.  It's time to heal and move on.