Monday, July 7, 2008

Will I Always be Broken?


Sometimes it hits me like a slap in the face.  You know, the kind of slap in the face that comes when you're not expecting it?  Well that's how it feels once in a while.  When the realization creeps in that I'm pretty alone in the world.  Here I'm supposed to be this brave strong woman, mother and wife, but more often I'm left feeling like a small scared child, abandoned at the bus station with no where to go.


I have a loving, wonderful, warm husband, three beautiful children, not much missing really.  Aside from that feeling of belonging, somewhere and to someone.  I know, this is so old already, but I keep coming back to it, running through all of it.  The reasons, the fears, the what ifs.

Mostly it hits me when there are events in my life, or my children's lives, that I would love more than anything to have someone who I am, we are,  connected to through blood to share it with.  I had my last child without having my mother in my life.  Our beautiful baby was born and the event was shared with only a few, my mother not being one.  

I wanted throughout my pregnancy to talk with her, shop with her, laugh with her.  But it's just a big fantasy, one that I keep reliving.  One that I keep alive by imagining the kind of relationships I will have with my own children when they are grown.  One that I envy in others when I see them with their mothers, or fathers for that matter.

I'm not a heartless callous daughter, who doesn't speak to her mother because I am simply making a point, or pissed off about years of misunderstandings.  You know the mother daughter complex, "she just doesn't get me."  On the contrary, I' ve spend many, many years trying to get this relationship to work, or at least make in manageable enough not to put me in the nut house myself.  But it always falls flat, the rug is pulled out from under me and I'm left, most times, in complete shock.   

I' ve had all sorts of advice, like, "forget it, put it behind you, it's brought you too much pain as it is."  It's good advice, especially from those who have seen me through much of the pain associated with the relationship with my mother. But I am not sure they can understand the complete aloneness this decision brings.   I've also had plenty tell me, "You've only got one mother, and when she's gone, you'll have regrets forever.", this stings more than I can explain.  As I am a mother, and I can't tell you what it would do to me to lose my children.

What I can tell you, is that not having my mother in my life grows more difficult each day.  We all need a place to belong, meaning outside ourselves, without that we're wander, and wonder. What happens when where you come from is too disastrous a beginning to ever want to go back?

So here I sit, a few years later, the same place I was when this all began.  

Today I go for a test.  I'm not happy about it, and I would like more than anything to talk with her about it, but how?  I keep running it through my mind, what if something is really wrong with me, will she ever know, what if something terrible happens to her, will I ever know?  I don't have any answers, and I know it seems it should be just as easy as just picking up the phone, or writing a letter.  It is not.  Letting her back into my life, our lives, comes at such a high cost, and I'm not sure I am prepared to pay.  

So I live, for the moment anyway, with my decision.

2 comments:

edies' world said...

Wish I could take away your hurt, I know advice is only that, and really doesnt make the situation any better. I hope someday you find that peace you are longing for..with your Mom, either with her or without.... lots of love

The Dani Lama said...

Every day, every stupid lousy glorious day, we walk this perilous razor's-edge. Every decision we have to make that affects us, our children, our partner's, our families, is this terrifying tight-rope walk.

What if we make the wrong decision? What if what we do causes more damage than we can repair? What is we lose something we should have held on to? What if what we hold on to erodes everything good in our lives?

All any of us have is THIS precise moment of careful balance on that hair-breadth edge. All we can do is take a cautious breath and put one tiny step in front of the next.

I wish it were easy. I wish that we each had a tiny soothsayer on our shoulders whispering in our ear which choice to make. Yet, the best we can do is take a wild guess and hope like fuck we don't cause too much fall-out. The best we can do is trust ourselves (which, good God, is easier said than done).

If, as Buddhists believe, thoughts are actions, then just being thoughtful and respectful of yourself means you're succeeding!

Perhaps, we could start a fantasy family league (not unlike the fantasy baseball league) and draft only the best, winningest parents, siblings, partners, and kids. I'll start--my team, which naturally I'll call, The White Sox (I did say this was a fantasy!)
My first draft--Keith Mars (from TV series Veronica Mars) as my dad. He's warm, loving, funny, supportive, kind, and cute. He's the dad I want.

Hang in there!