My mother and I have not been close our whole lives. It isn't until the past year that we've found peace. There has always been some kind of weird behavior from my mother towards me that she has a hard time controlling. She has admitted to it on and off through the past 10 years most recently about three months ago. She has apologized to me again and again for "not being nice to me" and I know that a large part of it is that she feels that if she had loved me properly and treated me kindly I would not be in the position I am in now.
One of my earliest memories of my mother is when I was somewhere around 4 years old. I was in the front yard playing while she was taking a nap on the couch in the living room. This was the early '60s in a small town at a time when it was safe to let your kid do that. Being curious, I observed a bee a little too closely as it went about it's business in the bushes and I got stung. Crying, I ran into the house to my mother asking for solace and help. Instead I was told to go back outside and play. Everything was fine.
I no longer experience emotional pain when I recall this. With age comes acceptance plus my mother has apologized enough. She is 79 and I don't want her to be awash in guilt.
The position I am in now is I am making 36% less money in Florida than I did in Baltimore. I live in a house where 95% of the windows are painted shut and the ones that I can open don't stay open unless there is something propped up keeping them that way. There are termites and the bedroom carpeting, despite my vacuuming efforts, is a luxury spa for fleas. Since last fall my landlord has promised he will tent the house.
The appliances were new in the '70s except for the microwave that my landlord replaced last year.
Since the old one was part of a stove/oven/microwave combo, the new one sits on a table in the kitchen.
Because I left my abusive alcoholic ex-husband who wouldn't allow the 40 some odd potential buyers into the house I used to own to view it to make a possible $40,000 profit, I have been in the foreclosure process and have been notified I owe a lot of money despite the auctioning off of the house that was a couple thousand short of the asking price.
Getting back to my mother. I routinely call her on my drive home from work. It keeps me awake after a long day, the hour long drive seems shorter, and I can give her the time she wants. As we were talking yesterday afternoon, Poppy's allergies came up which was followed by the subject of fleas and termites. My mother with a voice choked with emotion said, "I can't believe a child of mine is living this way." I told her it was okay and I wasn't ashamed to live where I do. Of course I wish I was living somewhere nicer but in the end we all die and we can't take it with us. Whatever we do in our present lives will end and some day we will be back and I hope the next life, having learned what I have in this life, will be cushier.
I have lived through cancer and decisions I made hoping they would patch-up emotional wounds. I no longer raise my fists in response to fists being raised at me. I can admit to imperfection without losing my sense of self. I can cry without feeling less than. I can feel weak or strong without guilt and/or the sense that I am letting someone down or carrying them. The only expectations I aim to fulfill are my own; the ones I set for myself.
I love my mother and I accept her. She is not going to change and she loves me with all of her heart as best she can. I am going to enjoy and cherish her and sometimes grit my teeth because of her but I will do it until I don't have her anymore.
