This has been one of the hardest years of my life so far, and it is
just May. With the year halfway over, it is too late to request a
re-boot. I didn't make any resolutions. I didn't even acknowledge Lent
like I usually do. If I were a Muslim who celebrated Ramadan, I'm sure I
would have already messed that up too...
So with hours
to go before Mother's Day arrives, I am feeling defeated. Unlike every
other mother who is preparing to be lauded for all of the wonderful
things she does for her family, I would rather just stay in bed to hide
from my Kid. Not because I fear her, but because lately, I hate her.
I
know, a good mother is not supposed to express such horrible feelings,
especially not at this time of year when people are trying extra hard to
make everyone feel guilty because of their Mama issues. And look, I
have plenty of my own, so I am not judging anyone. Before she got sick,
my Mother could be the opposite of joy. And since she's been sick, I
refuse to put on rosy glasses; however, since becoming a mother
myself...
I over-stand some of her issues. We were
ungrateful little shits. So maybe she did deserve to act extra bitchy
this time of year and maybe I could have grumbled less about the fact
that she had two other children and a husband who were all capable of
making plans to celebrate her fantastic-ness. But somehow, every damn
year from 1996 to 2010, the expectation was on ME to properly celebrate
her every May, and I failed.
Which is consistent as I
have been failing at a lot of stuff lately. I am a bad Auntie to my
newborn nephew whom I have yet to meet. I am a bad play grandmother to
my cousin's son (whom I also haven't met yet). I am a bad line sister to
the woman who held my hand during childbirth, who is now a mother
herself and my trifling ass still hasn't delivered her son's Christmas
gift. I am a bad leader Mommy to the women in my mommy group and they
don't talk to me anymore. I am a bad friend because no one makes plans
to do anything with me these days. I am a bad daughter for not spending a
lot of time with my parents. And I am a bad Mommy to this strong-willed
woman-child whom I love more than life itself because I also hate her
sassy ass.
I own those feelings because I am not a lazy
or mean or abusive or neglectful or indifferent parent. I try to be
present with this child EVERY DAMN DAY. I show up for her. I sacrifice
for her. I have missed out on activities for her. I have lost
relationships over her. I struggle to attain some relevancy in life for
her. But she is an ungrateful little shit, just like my sassy ass once
was to my bitchy Mama. So here we are...the circle of life (I just watched The Lion King on Disney Junior).
I
miss my Mother and need her guidance through this. But since I'm being
honest, she probably wouldn't offer me any comfort. She would look me in
the eye and say that it serves me right. The flip side to that is how
the Kid tells me that I am not her friend anymore followed by a little
tongue with sound effects.
But I get it. This is a
painful weekend for many so why should you care about my insecurities?
If you haven't unfollowed me or stopped reading by now, please know that
I see you. Because of fucking Alzheimer's,
I have an idea of how it feels to mourn a Mother's absence. Because of
my "advanced maternal age", there were years when I just accepted the
possibility that life had other plans for me. There may be many reasons
why there is someone out there who would trade places with me...and if
you are interested I can inbox you my address.
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