This time of year is always rough on me. Everywhere I turn, every Blog I read, every show I watch, every Facebook post I see there is some kind of accolade to Mom. To be honest, I am jealous of those who can post how much their Mom meant to them and how they miss them so much. They can write about the wonderful memories of time spent with their Mom and can be thankful for all of the life lessons that she taught them. Pictures of happy family time are posted and memories are shared. Oh how I dislike Mothers Day.
You see I didn’t have a great Mom, not even a good one, okay not even a mediocre one. Yes, she lived with us, she showered my sister with great love and affection, I think it was just me she didn’t like. Maybe that’s not the whole truth, she also did not like my Dad, or my Brother, or any of her relatives, or any of my Dads relatives. You get the point. Throughout the years I have tried to remember just one happy moment that I shared with her but I can’t. My sister was her world and I was an afterthought.
According to my Mom’s brother she had always had mental problems. I can look back on my early childhood now and see so many signs of this. When I was 12 years old she underwent a complete hysterectomy. She absolutely refused to take any hormone replacements so as a result her moods were out of control. After we moved to Missouri shortly after the surgery she had a complete mental breakdown. I won’t go into all the things that transpired but I will say that my Dad must have been some kind of saint because he refused to have her institutionalized, opting instead to take care of her himself. At least he tried to. The next two years were almost unbearable.
Forced by my Mom’s hatred of all the family we packed up and moved to California. My Mom literally spent the whole trip from Independence Missouri to Santa Monica California in the back seat of the car; on her knees facing backwards to make sure no one followed us. We arrived in California after 4 days of traveling and her knees were bruised and bloody. We lived in the L.A. area for the next 5 years and she never left the house except when we moved from one home to another. After my Dad passed away we move back to Arizona.
In 1986, when I married my current husband she was outraged. She really hated him. About 3 years later she disowned me because I would not divorce him. I did not see nor speak to her for the last 10 years of her life.
I am not writing this story so people will feel sorry for me, I write it because I want people to know why I cannot post a glowing affirmation of love to the woman who gave birth to me. I do love her, she was my Mom, I just have nothing good I can honestly write about.
So, if you have or had a wonderful, kind and loving Mother, thank God for her everyday and if possible give her an extra hug on Mothers’ day. As you scroll through the posts online this Sunday and you notice there is not one from me, you now know why.
I am a professional genealogist, writer, photographer, crafter, reader, wife, mother, and grandma. I have two books available on Amazon.com: Your Family History: Doing It Right the First Time and Planning Your Genealogy Research Trip. You can also connect with me via Facebook or Twitter.