Round and round and round and round
May 3, 2007
Every Mother’s Day, I go through this fog, this funk, this bullshit of missing the one woman, the ONE PERSON who never failed to make me miserable. No matter how many times I tried to be her daughter, her friend, someone who touched her soul, someone who tried to save her from herself, she turned into a screaming banshee, or a drunk pathetic mess, or both. In the end, she was someone I simply didn’t like. I don’t love her anymore.
Every Mother’s Day, I take apart a gift she once gave me: 
It’s a creamer that belonged to my Great Grandmother that she turned into a “Memory Jar” by filling it with memories she has of me. I torture myself by reading the scraps of paper inside: 
(my brother had mixed up the phrase “tear-jerker” with “tear-dropper” after seeing E.T. in the theatre with my mother and I.) 
(I was only 2-3 months old.) 
(Oh did I ever!) 
(first moments…I remember these with both boys…) 
(she had been invited, but refused to come because my father was also invited.) 
(so THAT is where Thomas gets his natural curiosity!) 
(This Sesame Street junkie thought she was Grover. What a ham!) 
(Again, Thomas? Stop being so much like your mother!) 
(I know I was loved.) 
(Hey, I thought I was getting one of each!) 
(and haven’t stopped, Mom…) 
(He’s a keeper, that one.) 
(My mother had kicked my father to the curb by then. She made it work though, I have to give her credit. She told me once that her only meal a day back then was the 80 cent meal her work cafeteria had available because she was trying to make it as a single mom. She went back to work when I was only 4 weeks old. I can’t even imagine.) 
(This was after 5 years of silence between us. I drove from Vancouver to Calgary with a friend, to track down my mother. I was 23, dating Daren and wanted my mother back in my life. I should tell you guys that story sometime!) 
(a poem my brother and I used to rhyme off to each other and to Mom.) 
(Mom was really close with her grandparents. Even through all the hurt and crap we’ve endured, it really saddened me that she chose not to come to my Great Grandmother’s funeral last year. I doubt she would have been well-received. I know she made this bed, and needs to lie in it, but still. I probably would have said nothing to her, just let her mourn and say goodbye.) 
(I had no idea she even was interested in my piano. Weird.) 
(A rare moment of peace for her I think. I wish I could have done more for her heart, brain, soul….but it was never for lack of trying. Daren would tell you himself, I have tried more times than we can count to have a relationship with both of my parents, been more forgiving (foolish?) then most and given my heart, only to have it thrown back at me, full force.)Every Mother’s Day, I have my cry, alone. When no one is looking. I miss her. I miss who she could have been. I missed out on having a mother that truly loved me. I miss the mother that remembers these things on these little pieces of paper. That has that unconditional love that mothers speak of. That love I know I have for our boys. That love that is so strong and powerful, it would forgive absolutely anything they do or say. I wonder why she never had that. Or if she did, why it ended when I became a teenager.On the other hand, if things were different, I wouldn’t be the mother I am. Maybe our boys wouldn’t be so lucky to have a mother who has that unconditional, unwavering, unbreakable love for them.
Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 10:36 pm
May 4th, 2007 at 12:41 am
Those are gems. What a great gift. I’m sorry it’s linked with so much pain for you. But you’re right - your boys will be SO grateful to have that security and love that you give them.
May 4th, 2007 at 7:27 am
What a wonderful treasure those are. Kinda like finding bits of diamonds amongst coal, I think.
As hard as it is to live without and to remember, you are an amazing person and a wonderful mom.
(((((((((((Karen))))))))))
Thanks for sharing those.
(btw…I used to do the ‘near’ and ‘far’ thing too! )
May 4th, 2007 at 8:18 am
This is actually really nice. Even though she had a sickness it is nice to see that through all her faults she really loved you and your brother.
May 4th, 2007 at 8:21 am
Karen,
I’ve come to believe over the last couple of years that as a parent, all you can do is strive to improve upon what your parents did with you; take the good and use it and learn from their mistakes and do better. If you accomplish that, I believe you’ve done your job.
And clearly, you are doing that…in spades!
And with the people you love, all you can do is keep trying…until you can’t anymore. At some point, you have to take care of yourself and if that means giving up on someone who is not capable of not hurting you for whatever reason, then that’s what you need to do. A hard lesson but unfortunately, a necessary one.
Call me any time, if you want to chat…
May 4th, 2007 at 9:03 am
This is a really neat idea your mom had. And while I don’t know what you went through, I get the feeling your mom didn’t know how to love. Or she didn’t know how to show it properly.
It reminds me of my grandmother a little. She was horrible to my father and yet, he turned out to be an amazing father to me and my siblings.
I think you are a strong person for enduring this…you truly amaze me.
May 4th, 2007 at 9:04 am
I Heart You! xo
May 4th, 2007 at 12:32 pm
It sucks so hard this time of year….but I envy you those slips of paper.
May 4th, 2007 at 2:52 pm
Thanks for sharing those. I’m sure I’m not the only one in tears. It makes me thankful for the relationship I’ve forged with my mom over the last few years. It sounds like you had it a lot rougher than I did, but the longer I’m a parent, the more understanding and forgiving I am of my mother.
May 4th, 2007 at 6:57 pm
This is a very touching piece. Sometimes, I just think that parents are big disappointments–especially when they are not what we want for ourselves. And I think when we see others who have what we do not, we miss it all the more.
I really love the idea of the jar with the memories. I’m glad you have that. I think we should all do this for our children so that they never forget.
May 5th, 2007 at 11:24 am
My wish for you is that you don’t view those bits of paper as torture any longer. I love the analogy someone above in the comments left of them being diamonds among the coal. Happy memories to hold onto.
We are both better mothers than our mothers could have imagined.
(((HUGS)))
chris
May 5th, 2007 at 11:46 am
What a beautiful post. My eyes are filled with tears as I read this. (hugs)
Maybe that is what I do with my scrapbooking. Trying to pass along to my daughter all the things that I remember.
May 6th, 2007 at 2:35 pm
Wow, I really like this - very close to home for me.
May 6th, 2007 at 7:57 pm
I understand.
May 7th, 2007 at 9:40 am
Lady, you have the most generous heart. And you break MY heart. Beautiful, tragic, beautiful.
xo
May 8th, 2007 at 10:55 am
Wow. Sometimes I think I am the only person out there who has a mom that lets me down. I am truly sorry for the way things turn out sometimes. But, I hope that I have learned from my experiences, and am determined to be a better mother than what I grew up with.
Thanks for sharing and posting this for me to read.