Saturday, May 9, 2020


My Mother, and No Dad

I grew up on a working farm in the '60s. On this farm, there were a lot of animals, my grandparents, my sister, my Mother, and no dad.  My grandfather was really my dad.  I preferred to stay outside, helping him with the land and animals.  I hate to say this, but my mom and I did not get along.  When I was little, things happened.  I would ask about my father, but she would say it is best if I did not know him.  The kids at school would say things to me about not having a dad.  The words were heartrending.  That made me want to know him because everyone has a dad to exist.  Something was missing.  Then the adults would lie to me about my dad.  So I never knew the truth.

As time passed, we drifted apart.  My mom and I never talked about anything important.  My children seemed to be a nuisance to her.  There were things between us that made it uncomfortable.  We never made plans except for her birthday.  Her birthday was around Thanksgiving, so I tried to also see her for her around Thanksgiving.

About 10 years ago, Mark's dad got sick.  His eyes got infected, and the infection when to his brain.  His dad did not recognize Mark as his son, but Mr. Abba would call him Hank - his son-in-law, the cop.  Mr. Abba would talk about Mark to Hank. It was so funny.  I remember one time Mark called his dad from his dad's yard.  They talked and talked until his dad said I need to find Hank.  I have to keep an eye on him.  When Mark walked in, Mr. Abba told Hank all about the call he just had with his son Mark in NC.  That night we went out to eat, and we laughed.  Mark said now I know how much my dad really loves me.  These memories would help me with my Mother.  

Over the last several years, my mom's mind started declining.   She had Alzheimer's. She did not remember me or my name.   So every time I went to see her, I remembered how Mark handled his dad, not knowing him. I stopped being upset because she did not know me.  I noticed my Mother wanted me around more and more.  She would ask me to come back to see her.  I would go see my mom, I was not her daughter -  I was a caregiver.   She would say now make sure they pay you because sometimes they are stingy.  I would just laugh.   Sometimes she would talk about her childhood.  It was as if she was right there reliving it.  There were a few times she would just stop talking, and she would say there are things not worth mentioning because all it is--- is pain.

 Now I understand why she would not tell me about my dad.  The subject of him, my grandparents, and other things were so painful to her because she had not forgiven herself.  I don't know what happened, and now it is not essential, but whatever it was - I forgive you, Mom.



In February 2020, I drove from FL to NC to be with Mother because I was told she was getting sicker. She passed within a few weeks.  On Sunday before she passed, my Mother knew me and told me she was ready to go home (Heaven), reaching upward.  So this Mother's Day, my Mother is in a heavenly home.  Mom, I miss you, but you are healthy now.  One day I will see you again.  Love you, Mom.  Thank you for giving me life.

Since her death in March, I have had a hard time.  I have been out of sorts ... with work, with relationships, with life ... with everything.  I am trying to find my way.  I never thought her death would feel like this.

I try to always leave on a positive note.
The positive is she is in heaven, healthy and happy.
The positive is I will see my Mother again.

Love your Mother while you have her ... good - bad - indifferent ... Love Your Mother, she gave you life.


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