Yesterday was your birthday and in three days it will be Mothers’ Day. I really wish we could have had a different kind of relationship — a healthier, more wholesome one. I truly believe that you did the best you could with what you were given. I believe that, on some level, you wanted to stop the legacy, but were too caught up in it to do so. You were too broken and too controlled. I wonder if, perhaps, you would actually be at least a little bit proud of me, of how I am today. Proud of how I have fought to break the patterns and not pass them down to my children — to your grandchildren. I hope I have succeeded.
I wish we could have had the kind of relationship where I could call you up and we could just chat about life and things happening in the world. I wish I could ask you about some of your recipes or ask about your thoughts on some things. I wish I could ask you about things I remember growing up and about places we lived.
I wish I could have called you up and asked about our relatives and family. I wish the whole family had been healthy enough that I could have actually had some kind of real connection to my distant family. I am thankful for one connection that I have now after all these years, but you never taught me HOW to have relationships with distant family. How could you? Your own relationships were filled with pain. So, I feel as if I am stumbling through this one, struggling to feel connected and wondering if I am “doing it right”.
I love you, Mom. In spite of everything, I love you. I have always loved you, even when I did not really like you — and even when I feared you and were very angry with you. You gave me life. Thank you for that. I refuse to hold a grudge. Against you or anyone else. I have always been that way, Mom. Life is too short for that.
Sometimes, I imagine what life could have been like. I look at those around me and I see how they and their moms (and dads) (and sisters) interact. You know, Mom, sometimes it is really hard. It makes me want to cry. And as much as I really try not to, sometimes I even feel a bit jealous. In fact, I have tears flowing down my cheeks as I write this.
Mom, I truly hope that you are with Abba now. I know you had a faith, that you read your bible, that you prayed. I don’t believe in getting into denomination wars. Faith is faith and I know you had it.
And Mom…I really wish I had not allowed my fear to keep me from calling you again at the end. I wish you had responded to my emails. I don’t even know if you got them.
Everything is the way it is. I cannot change anything, but I can write to you in my own way and hope that you now know the truth about all the things that happened. Hopefully, Abba has helped you to see what was really in my heart and how I was fighting my own programming and wounds. I know you understand what I am saying.
I love you, Mom. And again, for what it is worth…I think you did the best you could with what you had. I believe that you wanted my life to be better than yours. Only G-d knows if you succeeded, but I would like to believe that you did…at least in some small way. You had your battles and I had mine. I wish they had not been some of the same battles on opposite sides, but that is where we were placed in life. I am trusting that you are in a better place now and that I will someday see you again in that place where all the brokenness is gone and we are all completely healed in body and soul.
Happy Birthday, Mom. Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom.
Oh, and I finally got it about the quarters. I am sorry for the mess up.