Hello friends, one of the biggest life events to occur in our family during my blogging sabbatical, was the loss of my mom.
Between my husband and I, my mom was the first parent that we’ve lost. And it was hard!
There’s a lot I could say about her… A lot I could say about the months, weeks, and days leading up to her passing. And maybe at some point, I’ll write about that more in depth. But for now, I want to write about who she was to me.
I understand we all experience people differently. We perceive each other through the film of our own lived experiences. That is human nature. I’m fully aware that who she was to me is not who she was to everyone and that’s okay.
Where to start? I mean the relationship between her and I could be a chapter book. This is a blog so I do have to condense it a bit.
My childhood was complicated. My parents rarely agreed and from what I witnessed, my mom always succumbed to the will of my dad. For most of my life, I thought she was spineless. I experienced her as a passive person. I actually had a lot of resentment toward her for not standing up for herself and for us.
As it happens, we grow and mature with life experience, and hopefully we all have an awakening moment where we realize that our parents are just humans. It’s their first time living too, and they don’t have it all figured out.
I realized that I’d always compared my parents to people who I thought were ideal parents. The first sign of immaturity on my part. But that’s where I was at developmentally and I allowed my anger and resentment to carry me forward for quite some time.
I felt like I raised them for most of my life. And if we’re being honest, I did have much more responsibility than any child should have. Both of my parents have admitted that is true and my husband can attest.
Then I became a mom, a 19-year-old mom, and my mom showed up for me in so many ways. I recognize her sacrifice as the grandma she wanted to be versus the grandma she had to be in order to assist my brother and I with our children. Retrospectively, I think that this is a big one. I see it now that I’m a grandmother. She watched her grandkids every day after school for hours until we were off work. Now, did she make sure they ate healthy and got all their homework done? No… Did she make sure she pumped them full of sugar and took them to sonic and lived out all of her chaotic grandma dreams? Yes… Yes, she did. And I’m glad she did because even though she had them daily and had more grandparent responsibility because of it, she still found ways to be a grandma that she wanted to be and not the Grandma that was required of her. I really love that for her! And if you ask any of her grandchildren, their after school memories of their grandma are some of their fondest.
Okay, back on track. I’ve always been a bit anxious, struggled in my adolescent and early adult years with OCD, and the list goes on. But unless you knew me closely, you wouldn’t have known all of that. I struggled to connect with my mom through all of my issues because she wasn’t good at having hard conversations. She was good at smiling and pretending like none of it was happening. I used to resent her for that too. I needed her help and she couldn’t give it to me.
Fast forward into adulthood when I started seeking more help for myself. Growing, through endless amounts of therapy and self reflection and self accountability. I started putting together the patterns of my mom’s behavior. I talked a lot with my therapist about the way she always physically showed up even if she couldn’t emotionally connect on a deep level. The more trauma informed I became, the more I recognized my mom’s own trauma responses.
And then one day, I just asked her.. point blank. Connection is hard for you and you get petty or altogether avoidant when you feel backed into a corner or devalued. What happened to you? And then she told me. She told me things that she had never told anyone. A 60-year-old woman who had carried so much trauma. And listening to her talk about it I completely understood why she communicated the way she did, avoided the way that she did, reacted in pettiness the way that she did.. it all made sense. And it made me sad for her.
After our awakening moment with one another, I had a lot more understanding. My resentment fell and my love for her was able to grow. Now, did that take away moments of frustration with one another? Nope. But was I able to recover from those moments and not hold them against her forever or stop talking to her and punish her with isolation, but call it a boundary? Yes, because now I understood her. Please listen when I say that I’m not saying boundaries aren’t appropriate when they’re necessary. But I do feel like people over use them. There’s a quickness to getting offended and not trying to sit down and have a conversation or come to a compromise or even learn about the other person.
When I sat and thought about it… Did my mom say the right things all the time, no. Did she react in ways that were immature, yes? But on the other hand, did she show up when I needed her, yes. And I think she felt comfortable doing that because at the core of it, she knew that I understood her and I loved her and I accepted her.
Going through my own accountability I’ve often wondered how much my kids can hold against me. And even though I feel like it’s far less than what I could hold against my parents, I’m sure they could still find plenty of flaws to be upset about. But is it fair to hold our worst moments against us forever? Would I want my kids to do that to me? Aren’t we all capable of growth and change?
Parenting and grandparenting tends to point out all of those gaps. When you start to realize it can easily be done to you. It’s much easier to analyze and come to a different and more forgiving conclusion.
I’m lucky… I’ve been able to have really hard conversations with both of my parents. And I’m lucky because they’ve been accountable to their flaws. There are parts of them that I deeply love. And there are parts of them that make my eye twitch. But that’s okay. Thats normal. I’m sure that I given them the same symptoms at many points in my life.
I miss my mom terribly. She told me that she would haunt me, but in a good way! Hahaha! She certainly haunts my thoughts. We lived in different states and for the last five years of her life I talked to her about 3 to 5 times a day. She lived alone, even though my dad lives across the street. (they were divorced for 30+ years, but remained good friends). She was a great listener and confidant. No one really understands your motherhood journey, like your mother. I certainly miss having her to talk to in live action. But I continue to talk to her like she’s standing right next to me. It’ll be interesting on the other side someday to see how much she listened to. I’ll have my quiz ready for her!
I’m thankful for our relationship healing and the deep connection that I had always longed for with her. I’m thankful for her always wanting to and being willing to show up. I’m thankful to have watched her own emotional growth in her last decade of life. I’m sad that it took me so long to get there with her. It feels like wasted time now. But I wouldn’t change where we ended up.
Thank you for being my friend mom. I miss you very much. Your smile, laugh, and ornery personality are seared into my thoughts. Your impact runs deep and I hope you hear us every time we speak about you. We love you babe!
Your daughter,
Amanda
blendedfirstfamily 