The Long Good-Bye to Mom

I wasn’t prepared. I had volunteered at senior facilities in my youth. During my adult years, I have sung Christmas carols, delivered care packages and even visited my ex-husband’s father when he resided there prior to his death. But never had I dealt with someone I loved being incapacitated. Then it changes. 

Some of you may recall about 7 years ago I reconnected with my biological mother after many years of separation.  With that much passage of time, there is really no way to form a

bond like many children or adult children have with a parent but it was still healing in many ways. It gave me a sense of closure to at least hear an ‘I love you’ from the person who brought me into the world. For so many years I felt unloved and forced upon my stepmother. I was part of a package deal knowing it was my father she was in love with and not me or my sister. Our dad had custody of both of us when they divorced as she had left us..

Seeing my mother and getting to know her better, it didn’t take long at all to see why we weren’t raised by her. The flaws don’t take long to come out. But there is a connection there, a love and at times, a real joy.  Moments when she is truly the mother I dreamed of having, though fleeting. Much of the time, I dealt with the reality of who she was and was forced to accept, it is what it is. 

Now her condition has worsened significantly as her health has not only deteriorated but

dementia has kicked in. As the last year or two has gone by, it seems as if everything has accelerated.  Maybe it didn’t progress that quickly, when I look back at all the things that have been going on the past four years but, in not knowing her, I had no idea what was normal and what was not in her behavior. There were falls, unexplained lapses in memory, outbursts of anger, odd behaviors out of left field, that left my sister and I calling Adult Services frantic with worry for her well-being. She was placed over a year and a half ago in an independent living center for her own good. She is watched over and provided her meals. Best of all, all of her medications are administered which helps not compromise as much her heart condition and ensure her meds are taken properly. We had hoped this would help stop the downward progression we have seen.  It hasn't though but she has been much safer. 

I sit here now, full of a heavy heart as we are at the stage I never wanted to see happen. When I pick up the phone, I am never quite sure who will be on the end of the phone anymore. I have only my mother and my sister that I am closely connected too and communicate with regularly on somewhat of a biweekly basis and now my mom is losing it, losing touch with reality. It is as if she is partially dead to me but still alive. 

As my husband tries to comfort me, he can’t quit comprehend as his mother died with her mind intact. My mom will call sometimes sobbing in sadness,  full of a heavy heart

inconsolable like a child. The next call may be her happy full of joy laughing at hearing my voice and in midstream angry at me over something simple like I didn’t call her back over some message she never left or bad-mouthing my sister only forgetting who she is talking to and saying my name.  And the reverse happens when she talks to my sister. She has forgotten how to be happy. 

The ability to discern truth from fiction is hard for her.  Her brain doesn’t comprehend it clearly anymore at times. I am so grateful I had the time to reconnect before this dissension.  As my sister and I share stories of a trip or two we have taken her on, we laugh with glee over the funny moments and then stop in silence with where we are now.  We remind each other we are indeed blessed with those memories but yet are faced with the fact there will not be anymore of those for us with our mother. She is a skeleton of who she was.  

It is refreshing to have each other to share this experience with. There were periods in our lives when we weren't as close. Thank God we are now so that this isn't something either of us has to experience alone. Mom use to tell us she knew her mind was starting to go and was scared. She use to say she was a sorry excuse for a mother and didn't deserve us, both of us being there for her now, as she was losing it and closer to the end. She would apologize over and over again for everything that she wasn't. We let her know as God forgives we forgave her a long time ago. Hate has no place in this world but our relationship would always be different because we are different. I think she got it, she stopped saying it.  Now she doesn’t say it at all anymore. She actually doesn't say nearly as much. She is more like a self-centered child with a mind that is not nearly as reflective as her age.  I am glad. I don’t want her suffering or realizing her physical condition. 

Wow, is it different when it is someone you know, someone you care for, your own parent.  The best advice I get is from my friends, to try to not react to anything she says. So when I get yelled at, cried at, begged for something impossible to deliver or whatever, I am learning to simply 'be', listen and respond simply. I must keep my emotions on a shelf, at least while on the phone or with her. No, I wasn’t prepared for this. And yet, I am glad I wasn’t. It would have hurt too much to know in advance. 

Thank you God for a few moments with my mom to hear I love you.  As her mind goes and one day she leaves this place and goes home to you, I will have some memories shared. I will have had hugs with arms that held me as mothers do to their daughters when they are growing to give them strength and courage.  My time has given her peace to know I have forgiven her for her transgressions. And most of all, I have been able to heal from the pain. God bless my mother inside with what she needs to finish her time here.

Teresa Marie - You Did It On Your Own!

Sometimes real people are as inspiring as super heroes. It depends on what they do with their life, with their special skills, with their blessings.   There are those that do nothing with them. There are those that make riches, quite literally.  There are those that weave a web of fame or power.  And then there are those that create history, working hard for mankind.   Then there are those that inspire others simply by their human frailty, by their humbleness.   Those special folks that are not looking for accolades from anyone for what they do, they simply give out of the pure goodness of their heart because they love and care about others and believe God’s word says we are to love unselfishly and be there for each other, even when others forsake us.

I remember years ago meeting such a little girl. I was only about 4.  She was beautiful, and had a gorgeous white veil on and a dress that made her look like a mini bride to me. She was singing songs and dancing outside of a Catholic church around a serene image, a concrete statue of Mary that was adorned with flowers.   She was the type of child you knew,  with a glance,  would one day make Mary proud. She would certainly grow up to be  a loving kind happy mother.  She had that look in her eyes that showed a maturity beyond her years.   There was always an intensity about her, a deep passion and yet a need to care for others.  

It took many years before she actually did conceive a daughter.  She did not complain, during all those years in between,  as she had her son. A  second child seemed like something that would never happen in her lifetime. Getting pregnant was not easy anymore.   And the thought of a daughter, not in the cards.  What did she even know of mother - daughter relationships anyways?  Her life had been void of a real stable mother figure anyways how who would be the role model for her? She would have to totally wing it on her own.

One day, the news came that she was indeed pregnant. Not long afterward, I learned that the baby was indeed a girl, a

precious daughter for the little girl with a veil with flowers stuck in her hair and a bride dress on at age six,  with no mommy.   She was now going to be her own little’s girl’s mother.  God wanted her to have a chance to see what she missed. Now she would capture the joy of the experiences from the other side of the relationship she never had!   Her eyes lit up and her heart began to sing, just like they did when she six and went round and around the statue of Mary, singing her songs of praise……

                            

Rebekah's Love

My son married my daughter in law the day after Thanksgiving and our family changed forever, in a good way. With the onset of one of their children being diagnosed with autism, their lives changed dramatically. Not once have I heard either one of them so much as utter one word of dismay over this, nothing but love, support and encouragement for our grandson’s future. They continue to seek out nothing but the best treatment and therapy for him putting aside every barrier along the way, at a personal sacrifice. I wrote this below as a feeble attempt to pay tribute to my daughter in law for her sacrifice she makes every day for my grand children who would not be nearly as beautiful and as thriving if it were not for a mom that loved them so much and put her life on the line for them.

Words can’t express

How a mother defines success
It shows in her face,
Instilled in her grace.

It is one of those things

That poets try to capture in prose,

It is felt in the hearts of children,
And only a child truly knows.

The effect a mom has on her child,
It is an indelible mark,
They bring light to the lifeless,
They bring a child literally out of the dark.

They sing lullabies,
To the child that cannot sleep,
They hold their child lovingly,
Every single time their child weeps.

When their child’s heart is breaking,
Their heart breaks too,
It is almost as if the color of the day
Changes from gray to blue,
Until their child is happy,
Their day will not begin anew.

The mothers that are courageous,
They have the child with a special need,
God knew that they could be trusted
And thus, were given a special seed.

These children must be fostered,
And handled with special loving care,
They must serve as an example.
And not falter by others ignorant stares.

A mom should be willing,
To put her needs on hold,
To help her children be all that they can be,
And allow them to see what their future might hold.

Some women are stronger,
And give up more than others do,
These are the special chosen ones,
These are, in number, very few.

May you stop, reflect and pray,

For mothers that walk a harder road,
That society, community and loved ones,
Will help them carry their heavy load.

Every child is brought into the world for a reason,
Just like every time the weather changes it brings a new season.
We are here to learn through each other,
That is why none of us are carbon copies of each other.
Embrace those that are different, reach out a hand,
When you see their mothers struggling to raise them, please make a stand!

Always a Mother, Sometimes an Outcast

I find it fascinating to compare stories with other women that have adult children. I am not sure at what age the parameters of the relationship change, but everyone agrees, it does change.

No longer are you, the mom, consulted on major decisions. Infact, it is more likely that news is dropped on you like an atomic bomb. With no advance warning, you are told things like “I am getting married; I am buying a new house; I am pregnant, I want to get divorced.” There is usually no precursor to the news flash it is just blurted out. Young adults simply want their moms to say “That is great, I am happy for you” even if you are thinking “Oh no, what a bad move!”

During the formative years, teens, kids chose frequently to alienate their parents. Their parents epitomize ‘ uncoolness’. For some reason, moms think, when they their children graduate from high school, this stage will end and this attitude will also. Sometimes it does, but more often, it does not. This then becomes even more hurtful as mothers are first dealing with the empty nest syndrome and are now even less kept in the loop of what is going on in children’s lives. No matter what age a child becomes, they still, in the eyes of the moms, are a child.

I think adult children see it differently though. A friend recently said, “Thank goodness for facebook! I can know learn what is going on in my children’s lives. Before facebook, I sat waiting for the phone to ring. “How sad is it that, after all the years of sacrifice, parents are left sitting waiting on their adult children to find time to call them?

A lot of my friends complain that their opinions are not sought out anymore at all by their adult children. When they give their viewpoinjts, whether it be verbally or by today’s main course of communication, email, the advice is met with anger. The adult children today perceive this input as interference in their live and unsolicited advice they do not want nor respect. It is fine to give adult children money when they hit hard times and need it but it is a totally different scenario when it comes to giving advice. The advice can be the death kiss to a relationship. 

Amazing that all those years of changing diapers, taking children to sports events, and holding hands and broken hearts lead to this, a feeling, at times, as if a parent is a stranger and on the sidelines of their adult children’s lives. Any interjection on your part, as the parent, in particular moms, is met with animosity so you slowly learn to pull back and just totally keep opinions to yourself and learn to deal with the hurt.

A good illustration of this is was from my daughter in law recently. She said via text to my phone when it came to mothers in her life and support, “I don’t ask or need anyone’s advice.” When did this happen? That a young mother needs no one else’s input? It is not a far stretch to say inputs from elders is not respected nor considered good advice. Otherwise, why would so many young adults turn away from loving advice given with nothing but a desire to help, not enabling advice but just input.

I guess it is a lot like riding a bike. As a young parent, we had to let go and watch our children go down the street eventually, on their own, all the while praying they don’t fall. They looked to us for training, and then looked at us to celebrate their great ride on the bike and for input on how to stay on. But, in life, when they are on the ride, if and when they fall, as all of us have some failures, it all changes, even with the adult child. All of the sudden, the first person they want to call is a parent. It is as if the emotional distance was nothing more than an illusion. But when it comes to all else, stay put and stay out. It is like they all belong to a club and you are forbidden to join.

Every parent I know with adult children gets called when there are troubles in their children’s lives or, if they have things to boast about. Our role as a parent is to be called upon only in these circumstances. Our adult children are more diplomatic in rejecting advice as they get older , but it is still a rejection. Too often we are silenced and told our opinions are not valued. It is seen simply as interference that is unwarranted. I admit there are those that do have adult children that seek out their parents advice for their honest viewpoints. This appears to not be the norm, in my circle. Either that or I am hanging with the wrong group of friends!

Whatever happened to the sentiment in the past, elders were, without question, given respect? In days gone by, hearing an occasional no or constructive criticism was a parent’s way of showing love and concern. A close friend of mine, years ago, left her job and her family to care for her elderly dying grandfather. In the worst of circumstances, as he lay on his death bed, she recants all the lessons in life she learned from him. She never stopped believing he, her grandfather, had knowledge and wisdom and she wanted to tap into while he was still alive. Yet, when it came to her own daughter, as soon as she grew up, it is as if her own mother was denied access to her inner circle. What a shock to a mother who spent her living as a living role model to family unity.

The generation of adult children only wants to hear affirmation for everything they decide to do. They want a world with resounding yeses to everything they do, nothing but positive affirmation. When, in reality feedback, positive and negative, provides insight and growth opportunities.

How odd too that the adult child seeks out other’s opinions that they are not related to but won’t listen to their own parents. In my case, I have many young friends who frequently like to use me as a sounding board for their lives, much more so than my own children. These young people will listen with an open mind. Those relationships often seem as strong if not stronger than those with my biological children.

I am not alone in this observation. The premise of this viewpoint is something many have shared with me over the years. Input into life’s decisions are valued and sought out by young adults but just not by our children. Somehow parents have become an obligatory call, when things are going well and a sounding board only when things are going major array.

It makes me wonder about the future. No one lives forever, parents that are here today could be gone tomorrow. When they die, all that is not expressed dies with them. Too many people my age wish they had one more day, one more conversation with their deceased parent. They long for the honest open dialogue they will never have. And yet, all around me, I see young people that just take it for granted their parents will always be there. The relationships they are forming are based on solely what their needs are, not on what their parents need and want in the relationship. Honest feedback is constructive and does not demonstrate parents wanting to meddle in lives but perhaps something greater, love and a better understanding of part of who they are. Once a parent is gone, the question will never get the chance to be asked. Open the door while you still can. Embrace your parents, they need and want that and yes, at the end of the day, miss it.

Reach Down and Out

My last story about mothers and lost relationships has spurred a number of people to reach out to me and share their stories. I have heard quite a few happy memories of women that had mothers much like television moms, mothers that loved unconditionally with enough love of themselves to pour out love to their children.

But some women’s experiences with their mothers are of the other type; stories that are not happy with story book endings. Those touch me deeper; they reveal unreturned love a child innately has to their mother but it not being reciprocated. These stories show human frailty as its most basic level. For does not everyone deserve the love of a mother? This absence of love from a mom stays with people through out their life. I would like to share one of the stories below.

There was a woman nicknamed Jean. She was a caring loving woman that was devout in her Christian faith. She was a fantastic tailor who made things not just for herself but others in need. Her master pieces were often made for other. I was told she even once sewed every single costume for every character in a Christmas play. She brought joy to others but had a mother who did not love her, in a sense rejected her. Though her father cared about her, it is hard for a man to make up for an uncaring mother who is your primary care taker.

She had a sickly brother and what little positive attention was given by Jean’s mother was lavished on the younger brother. It was a miracle he survived his illness but the price that was paid to Jean was now not only non existent love and care but witnessing her mother giving love but to only one sibling, her brother Paul. She stood in the wings so often, even during holiday celebrations waiting for that which would never come her way, attention and positive regard. In a poor home where the only thing children can get lavished with is love, it was not to be hers.

Jean turned up pregnant and marriage seemed inevitable. The year was 1962 and in that day and age, a woman had very few options. According to her adult daughter, looking back, her mother was probably not ready to marry nor was she with the man of her dreams by any stretch. And after the marriage, the place they called home was a travel trailer that did have such enmities as a real toilet and bath tub. But of all places to situate it, he put it smack dab on this parents 20 acres so that she was within a stone throw of a mean spirited mother in law. This added to Jean’s stress and unhappiness. She was alone, no near by neighbors to call friends and with a husband where love and nurturing was lack in their marriage. Her mother in law seemed to have a mission, to make her daughter in law’s life intolerable. Her misery grew.

Her next ten years living there they did not a dime to spare. Jean stayed devout in her faith to God and that was her only salvation and source of love. When her eldest daughter was around seven years old, she turned up pregnant with a son. As the story was recanted to me, this last pregnancy may have been the final straw to put Jean mentally over the edge.

With the announcement of her pregnancy, her husband grew extremely frustrated and angry. He had plans, now that they were getting caught up on bills. He longed to save money and buy a home. He felt this postponement, due to the financial stress of another mouth to feed, was entirely her doing. He even made accusations that the son was not his, as if somehow that absolved him of any guilt. These accusations made Jean feel like a knife was cutting through her as this was so against her nature to do any discretion. She was shocked and hurt as the accusations flew. She was being scorned in her home and yet had done nothing wrong.

Jean’s world began a steady descent into a place of mental instability. She spiraled into a deep depression. Jean found herself flooded with memories of her own mother rejecting her. She remembered trying desperately to receive it but it was unreturned. Jean knew she was in a loveless marriage with a man who was not kind to her. She began losing touch with the world she wanted so desperately years ago to be a part of. All of this led her to a nervous breakdown, hospitalization and being medicated.

During this time, her son was not getting the care he deserved from her. A t some level, Jean probably knew this and yet seemed incapable of changing the outcome. Her life was on a self destructive path with no end in site. She went through the motions of being mother because the medication really did not allow her to be or feel more. The older sister of this little boy did what she could to give love to her younger brother when she could.

Somehow she did get pregnant a third time, when the eldest child was 14. This was to be her last child, and one, as she aged, that did not get along with her mother at all. She was showered with attention from her older sister’s friends and her older siblings and from, strangely enough her father. This child, almost to a fault, was lavished and allowed to be somewhat babied and not pushed to grow up and mature normally. To this day, she still lives alone, no marriage and no children, with her father.

Jean eventually confined herself to bed. She began hearing voices and labeled them as God speaking to her. She began to become totally submissive to the pull she felt was from God. She did not appear to realize she was going deep into the throes of mental illness and had a hard time separating reality from untruths. Jean sunk into the lowest of lows of depression.

As her descent continued, Jean’s children were being neglected. This was not done by choice but by an incapability to do more. The eldest daughter was heartsick inside about her mother’s sadness. She recalled days her mother sewed them Easter outfits, read them bible stories and expressed the love that she was never given herself as a child to her children. However, Jean began mentioning giving sacrifices to God, feeling some strange calling or pull to do so. Her oldest child sometimes feared one day her mother would kill her as an ultimate sacrifice. Hence, this child lived in somewhat fear, knowing fully well her mother loved her but also realizing her mother was out of touch with reality and might have the capacity to be harmful.

When the eldest daughter turned 10, Jean’s husband finally got a home. Even with this move, Jean was far into the throes of unhappiness now having suffered a nervous breakdown. A lifetime of being unloved was catching up with her and engulfed her in sorrow, she seldom felt joy. She continued her Bible readings and even, in saner moments, read Bible stories to her children at bedtime. Perhaps Jean knew, in the dark recesses of her mind, one truly sane thought, the knowledge that God could and does love unconditionally. Her daughter prayed that was enough to sustain her and give her mom some semblance of joy and possibly some reason to come back to reality.

It was not to be though. Several suicide attempts followed that were, by the grace of God, unsuccessful. Hospitalizations occurred also. After a heartfelt request, Jean vowed to her eldest daughter to not make anymore attempts on her own life. Somehow her daughter felt relieved but somewhat on guard as she knew her mother had deep seated issues that were still present.

No long after this promise, Jean was diagnosed with diabetes. She seemed to; be choice, let her health go by the wayside. Jean possibly saw an opportunity to ignore early warning health concerns due to her new diagnosed illness so as to accelerate her own death. Sores on her feet led to a need to amputate her foot. Jean was admitted to the hospital for the surgery but never made it home this time. The surgery led to her death. Jean’s life of living with mental illness was over.
Jean’s eldest daughter is left with memories of what could have been. She remembers a caring loving sweet woman who told Bible stories and believed in the love of God. Her mother was an excellent seamstress who made things that were impeccable such as Easter outfits each year for all her children that fit perfectly. Her creations were examples of the perfection she sought in life and was never equally rewarded for her efforts for love and happiness.

What survived after Jean’s tragic death was Jean’s true legacy. Her eldest child is a daughter that is everything Jean wanted to be and was in her early years. This Christian daughter is someone cheerful and positive. This lady cares about others, is giving, out going and quite vivacious. She can overcome rejection also. Yes, there are scars left over from the tragedy of her mother’s live but she lives on happy and productive in society. And she remembers her mother with kindness in her heart and a sense of loss that is irreplaceable.

She has a daughter who has an incredible work ethic. Growing up poor, Jean’s eldest does all she can to ensure she is never in that same predicament again. Her lack of children has not given her a chance to replay how differently things could have been for children in the home so she could see the reverse of a dysfunctional childhood. Those of us blessed to call Jean’s eldest daughter friend indeed feel lucky. We also know that her mother shines down from heaven with rays of joy and pride at the woman her daughter has continued to be.

Mothers come in all shapes and sizes. They parent their children in many different styles too. Each mother, we have to assume, does the best they can do with what they have. Sometimes, simply said, it is not enough. And when it is not, it is virtually impossible for a child to be unaffected by their mothers short comings. But, as we grow older and learn to separate from our parents, we can learn to look back with keen eyes and an open mind and see more clearly. We can remember and forgive poor choices our mothers made. We can be grateful also for what was done well. But, as Jean’s daughter feels, we must never forget them. The chain of dysfunction must be broken and we must be a positive legacy for the efforts our mothers made. With the understanding of the experiences from our past, our history, we can learn much about ourselves. If we can envision a better future for us, we can make it happen. Do it, reach down deep and then reach out and make that difference!

Jean, you are remembered and are now in God’s loving arms. Amen. We shall see you again one day and be blessed with your smile!