Today is my mom’s birthday and I’m burning a candle for her.
Ever since she died nine years ago, I’ve had a much better relationship with her. I read somewhere that the relationship you have with your mom is in your head, not in any temporal or objective reality. So now that she’s gone, I finally feel loved by her. I feel tenderness toward her, instead of fear or anger. I forgive her.
When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, she was told she had six months to live. My sister and I got hospice care for her, because she wanted to die in her own bed.
A couple of times, she asked me to help kill her. Each time, I explained that I just couldn’t consider it. I did what I could to provide comfort. My sister and I often spent the night with her, and we tried to conceal our anxiety and grief. She declined over the six months, becoming delusional at times and suspecting us of hiring fake rabbis or switching her drinking glass. Near the end, I chewed up food for her and fed it to her like a baby bird.
Finally, the last morning arrived and her beautiful Jamaican nurse called us to hurry over to say goodbye. Her death throes were terrifying and unbearable to watch, but we had to bear it. My sister and I each held one of her hands as she died. The nurse recited the Lord’s Prayer. My sister sobbed hysterically throughout.
Afterwards, we sat in my mom’s bedroom, paralyzed with shock. Other family members arrived. I turned around in my chair and opened a drawer, not really thinking about what I was doing. In the drawer was her will, and nothing else.
I picked up the will and read the first line aloud. “I, _________, being of sound mind, hereby exclude my two daughters from this will. I do so deliberately, and should they contest it, they will receive not more than one dollar each.”
Mom, you were a funny one. Happy birthday.
I’m floored.
Wow. I have no words. That’s insane. The sad part for me is I can actually relate having a crazy mother myself. You are one tough cookie Sister.
damn, I am speechless.
Wow, that’s just….fucked. (The part about the will, anyway.) My mom was crazy too.
i love my mom, she’s nice and the sweetest, but to be honest we’re better apart. We’re opposite. We just can’t stay together for long in the same room.
Sometimes i feel bad that I can’t be with her for such a period of time. One month is too long. We’re gonna clash. She’s a mom in every sense of the word. Till now she thinks of me as a baby. But i love her, I really do. I miss her.
My Dad died almost 5 months ago from non-hodgkins lymphoma. I am 25, and have two younger sibling. I also have 3 older half-siblings who aren’t very nice. Anyways, the night of my Dad’s death he lost his mind. He told my mom to sell the house and split it 6 ways, and didn’t want my mom/myself/my younger sibs in the room with him. He pitted the older sibs against the younger sibs, caused a huge fight in the palliative ward, and that, was the last memory of my Dad. Cancer makes people do crazy things.
I feel ya Sister Wolf. I know too well how you feel right now.
BTW, your moms really pretty 🙂
Oh dear goodness.
well, she did leave you her looks. that’s something.
People who grow up in sane, functioning families have don’t know what they are missing!
One of my biggest dreams as a child was that both my parents would die. Later I’ve kind of forgiven them that they didn’t. For the last 23 years I’vew had practically no contact with my father whom I last met in 2003. I visited my mother in April for the first time in three years. I managed to stay at her place for an hour or so, which was quite an accomplishment. Afterwards I felt a little proud of myself.
I’ll probably have to wait until my parents are dead until I can feel any affection for either of them. Both my 95-something grandmothers are alive so my mother would probably outlive me, even if my hepatitis-caressed liver was not as fucked up as it is.
If I live to be an old man I’ll have some interesting times ahead of me. “How to deal with my ageing parents when they get old and helpless” will be a big issue to solve in ten years or so.
Tell your mum I said happy birthday and said that she looks like a movie star in that photo.
Denise – You will always be her baby. Even when you’re 80. xo
Ashley. Shit, sorry to hear this. In the case of my mom, the will was already in place before her diagnosis.
Juli – Welcome to the club. You’re in good company. I think I AM tough…what’s the alternative, you know?
Juri – I’m just worried about your liver!
If I may be intrusive by writing something, you were and still are, I guess, what we called in the army ‘walking wounded’. The fact that you, and your sister, I suppose, continue to hold your heads high is an example for the rest of us. Frightfully un-English and all that sort of thing, but consider yourself hugged!
Me too. I went to see “my” GP in april and told him I’ve had hep C for 17 years or so and would like to have a proper liver check and would possibly be interested in going through that 48-week interferone treatment. The bastard took some general blood tests because “a specific liver check is expensive” and showed me a paper which said that some enzymes show that my liver still works.
Of course it fucking works! I know it works because I’m still breathing, but that doesn’t prove it’s not damaged.
That idiot doctor got me so mad I gave up the whole project but we’ll have a health check coming up at work, so I’ll give it another try.
What an off-topic rant. Sorry.
Tell your mum I still wish her a happy birthday. I’d burn a candle for her if I had any.
A stumbled on you a while back, wondering if I was the only one sickened and fascinated by the glut of wanky fashion blogs around.
And then I read more and thought how very brave and raw to be so out there with all your stuff. The good, the bad but most of all, the real.
So much of the cacaphony of voices in the blogosphere is just self-aggrandizing bollocks.
An amazing writer, you just bring it home.
Crikey. Totally bonkers.
I’m glad you were able to forgive, that is strength.
Well yes she did leave you with great looks and you are so kind because you learnt what craziness does. Plus I love the use of the word temporal. xx
I think Mark Twain would have sympathized with you.
When he was pulled half/drowned out of a river at the age of 11 his mother’s only comment was, “Those who are born to be hanged can’t drown.”
SW, I’m sorry for what you had to go through during your mother illness. I had the experience and I don’t wish it on anyone. I was very close to my mother and when she died I was completely numb from pain for about a year.
The end of your story feels like a kick in the stomach.
In Poland you can’t, by law, completely exclude your closest family (spouse, children). They will get a part of the inheritance – I don’t remember how big exactly. That reminds me – I should make my will, because, well, you never know!
By the way – your mother was a beautiful woman, and I agree with Trift Store Lawyer – looks are worth something! 🙂
I can’t handle my mother. She is seemingly sane to the outside world, people (including me sometimes) think she’s great, but after yet another episode of her seeming entitlement to ride roughshod over my life purely because she gave birth to me and a lot of other crap that’s been accumulating for a decade, I told her I never wanted to see her again. The next day, I wrote her a letter telling her exactly why. I’ve had no contact with her since, and for the sake of my own sanity I don’t want it. It’s like a weight coming off my shoulders, and I can’t bear thinking of it coming back.
Where I live (you can see the IP, Sister) doing what I did makes me a monster and a bad daughter. Maybe I am. But I can’t be a “good” daughter according to my mother’s definition and live. I tried, and have never been more miserable. And the weird thing is, I really wanted to please her but could never manage it no matter what I did. I’m selfish, and I feel particularly awful writing this out given that you lost Max so cruelly, but I also feel freer- maybe not happier, but for the first time in years I think I might manage it without the voice of my mother telling me my dreams aren’t worth working for and that I’m a fuckup, while simultaneously claiming to love and encourage (bullshit!) me.
Sometimes your writing genius is so front and centre, Sister! I was in so many emotional places during this post I’ve got whiplash.
Wow. This one’s for the archives. Another beautiful piece of writing, SW. Thanks.
Wow. Not even sure how to structure a comment about this right now. Like a few commenters above, I’m also speechless.
I’d meaning to comment for a while now (though I’m always reading), and hadn’t been able to find the time or the right words to offer any kind of decent response to the fucking CRAZY, disgusting shit that had been going on a few posts below. I really feel for you Sister, I know it wouldn’t even make a dint on what you’ve been through but you really shouldn’t have to deal with that shit! Stay strong xxx
It’s funny how the real giants in our lives, whether good, bad or indifferent, are always our parents. No matter how many foibles, we expect them to be god-like when it comes to their offspring. We can hardly outrun their influence; they stay around long after they’ve left this world, and no matter what their intentions they have a way of fucking up the offspring, even if it’s just a wee bit. Because they were fucked up by their parents (thanks Mr. Larkin). To understand a human being the whole context of his or her life must be examined under a microscope. That’s how I’ve coped and come to terms with my family and my family’s history.
Sister, your mom was a beauty. I’m glad you have a better relationship with her now, it’s never too late. I don’t know why, but being an atheist, I can’t reconcile why I believe I’ll see my family when I leave this planet too. It just makes no fucking sense.
Since we’re talking about moms. The Bessie part of my name, when commenting on your blog, is in honor of my mom. It’s not her real name; however, when she was going through immigration (in Canada), the immigration officer couldn’t pronounce her name, or became frustrated with it, and called her Bessie. A name my mom hated! But used because of its ease for English speakers to say and understand.
There’s no understanding character without context, and that helps ease the madness.
xxooxxoxox
“Ever since she died nine years ago, I’ve had a much better relationship with her. I read somewhere that the relationship you have with your mom is in your head, not in any temporal or objective reality. So now that she’s gone, I finally feel loved by her. I feel tenderness toward her, instead of fear or anger. I forgive her.”
This is beautiful; that you can feel it, how you say it. You have obviously found profound emotional health and strength in yourself, in your relationship with her. I will try to find this while my mom is still alive (glioblastoma, going on 4 years, completely awful to me for a year after I divorced my first husband).
Your strength and courage and insight inspire me.
Life is so weird.
“There’s no understanding character without context, and that helps ease the madness.”
So, so true, Bessie. I didn’t really understand my father until after he died. I feel like shit most of the time because we got really contentious with each other and I thought it was about me and what I’d done. It was never about me.
I miss him. So much.
Are you sure we didn’t have the same mother?? My mom excluded me from inheriting anything because she said I didn’t need any of it or any money because I was married to a doctor. She left everything to my brother and sold the house to him for $1.00 so there would be no inheritance tax. I totally understand you having a better relationship with her after her death- after my mother died, I finally felt free. There was no more longing for her to be the mother I wanted her to be. I still love her, however imperfect she was. I wish that she knew that when she was alive. I can totally relate.
How do you do it? Honestly, in the midst of so much heartache, how? I have felt so broken about my relationships with my parents and sister. I love and care about them, but we’re so dysfunctional that I’ve finally had to accept that I’ll never have the ideal relationship I keep hoping would be achieved. I now feel guilty for feeling apathetic and defeated, not being able to maintain relationships with these people who are supposed to be the core of my life.
As others have expressed, your strength and insight is amazing, and thank you for your candidness in sharing your life and experiences with us.
if thats her, she seems to have max’s eyes and your beautiful hair.
did you collect your 1$?
i’d have framed it.
today I asked my mom to use her credit card so i could finally have a cellphone (sooo broke! all summer) and she refused even though she’s been yelling at me all summer because I haven’t called her enough.
skype is free, she says.
safety isn’t free, but whatever mom.
fucking mothers.
What an incredibly moving post, Sister Wolf. Your generosity of spirit and lion’s heart always shine through the toughness you’ve had to develop.
Crazy mothers. A friend once remarked that all mothers are evil, it’s just a matter of degree. Probably. My mother, like yours, was a great beauty, and one of the great disappointments of her life was that her only daughter wasn’t shiny and pretty. And of course not having a younger beauty around was also a great relief to her, so – crushing, crazy-making double bind. I didn’t learn to appreciate her until she’d been dead about 5 years and I realized how intelligent, independent and ahead of her time she was. And although wildly neurotic, hysterical, incapable of seeing her own contributions to the unhappiness in her life, and just plain unsuited for mothering, she had a kind heart. It just didn’t get much of a chance. Bessie the Buddha Cow put it very wisely, that context is crucial, and my mother’s context was very unpleasant. I’m glad I finally have some insight and can love her now. It’s good for me and good for her too, wherever/whatever she is.
Words fail me.
xxx
What. The. Fuck. We need more background on how and why she would do this.
My post today is also on mothering, because its my daughters birthday.
All I want out of being her mom is to help her develop into whoever she wants to be. I just hope I dont fuck it up.
My mother was a lunatic when I was growing up… Now we live 25 minutes away and its perfect.
Just read all the comments above mine… You guys are scaring the shit out of me. Its fucking HARD WORK not screwing up a persons life. I have to believe that most people try their best at loving their kids… even if they are totally misguided.
I forgave my mother for everything I felt she did wrong to me during my childhood and adolescence… for a few reasons. One is that I dont want to blame her for my shortcomings … another is that as an adult I am able to see the conditions she was working with and how a lesser woman would have cracked long ago… and third is that she changed as a result of our relationship. She learned how to be a more open minded person and is a much more understanding mother to my younger sisters. So that makes me happy.
I’m crying.
Now I’ve read the comments and I’m still crying.
I have the radio on (an oldies station) and Jose Feliciano is currently singing “Adios Amour”.
I’m still crying.
I was just thinking a couple of hours ago, it’s 16 years tomorrow since my mother died and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.
Sister, I love you more and more every day.
I wish I could be with you today.
I’m still crying.
I am so sorry for everything you have gone through Sister. I sometimes thought, like when I was trying to ingest a handful of my father’s pain meds, that I had the worst parents in the world. Obviously the pain meds didn’t work and they never changed. Regardless, they were nothing compared to some of the stories I have read on here. I feel guilty thinking that things will just be easier when they die. I don’t technically wish them dead, I just think it will be easier to “deal” with them and all of the torture they have put me through. I was never physically abused, but the verbal/mental abuse was intense. I worry for my children that some day they will think of me as crazy or unfit b/c I raised my voice when they spilled juice on the carpet or broke the recliners in our sofa. I’m positive they haven’t been through anything compared to what I went through, but is it enough? I hope so. I hope they love me as much as I love them.
Stay strong, keep writing. I love reading. Thinking of you, Max, and your mother. xoxo
You know the story of my mom. And now I know a bit more about yours. Thanks for sharing. I love you.
David – I can only hope you were wearing your long johns when you hugged me. xoxo
Jucier – Wow, thanks!!!
Make Do – Hahahaha, I don’t think I’ve ever used it before but it felt good, I have to admit.
Cricket9 & thrift shop lawyer – She is so beautiful in this picture. I finally feel secure in my relative attractiveness, but it’s taken me nearly my whole life.
K-Line – What a great compliment! xo
Marky – Thanks Marky.
Nadia – Could you believe that shit?!?!? A feeding frenzy of murderous chickens. Thanks for your love and support.
Bessie – That is a great head you got on your weary shoulders, Bessie. xo
Sheri – Aw Sheri, if I can get there, you can too. xo
kt – It’s hard to accept those relationships when they fall so short of your expectations. In the end, they’re all we’ve got. But maybe in some cases, it’s better to keep your distance until a crisis. Only terminal illness could have brought me back to my crazy mother.
ali – Fucking mothers indeed. (Yep, about Max’s beautiful eyes)
I hate to think what the alternative would be. I just thank the stars that it’s all seemed to make me a stronger person.
Alicia – You can still talk to him though. Even if you don’t hear an answer.
the real andrea – Jesus. Nice.
Bevitron – Now THAT is writing. I want more.
sketch42 – The more we strive to succeed as mothers, the more we fear being complete failures. The really truly awful mothers usually insist that they were great, and nothing was their fault. All we can do for our kids is provide that unconditional love and support. The rest is up to them.
Andra – Oh, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Of course you miss her every day. And I’ll tell you this, if I haven’t shared this already: One day, near the end, my mom looked up and said in a tone of wonder. “Oh for goodness sake! Hello, mother!” Her face was radiant with happiness. I’m an atheist, but I believe her mother was there to light her way.
te – Yeah, it’s always there, the fear that we’ve traumatized them. Just keep letting them know that you’re always there for them no matter what, and that they’re precious.
I don’t think it’s the yelling that we remember; it’s the fucking nonstop craziness. That’s a whole other thing. xo
Ann – Well, wait til you get that sweater, that’s all I know.
Wow, that is seriously fucked up. I can’t imagine my mom ever doing that in a million years…she and my brother get along so badly that they can’t even be in the same room together for any extended period of time, and she still didn’t leave him out of her will.
Even though I guess I have what you’d call a “crazy mom” (although, I’m starting to think that everyone kind of does, and my mom says that motherhood itself is what makes mothers so crazy) this post really reminded me more of my grandma than anything else. Today she called up my mom (who’s her daughter) and said that she wanted me to come visit her. The thing is that she doesn’t want anyone else in my family to come visit her, which she said to my mom directly, even though she sees my mom’s brother and his family all the time. Among other things she said that she doesn’t want to see my brother because apparently she is ashamed of what other people will think of his long hair. Like seriously WTF?? I can only imagine how my mom must feel now that her own mom has basically been like, I don’t want anything to do with you, even though my mom has been asking her constantly for the past few months if there’s anything she can do to help her out. And my grandma isn’t senile, so it’s not like she’s just acting out of character. Basically she’s just telling my mom what she really thinks (and I think a lot of my relatives share this opinion), which is that I’m the “Good One” because I go to an Ivy League college, and everyone else in my immediate family is just trash. Anyway my mom is saying that I have to go visit her, but I really don’t even want to, because I feel like I’m betraying the rest of my family and I feel like she’s trying to manipulate me into hating them. Being old is no excuse to act like a douchebag.
Death made me feel loved by my mother too.
Better late than never.
I forgave her, and she forgave me.
We were still damaged though.
xo xo
fuckme. write. a. book.