Dear "Mommy"
I don't miss you. I was not sad for you when I learned of your death. You are the one who insisted I could not be informed of your terminal cancer. What purpose did that serve you? You were trying to teach me one more bitter lesson...typical. It backfired, I now see through your conniving. I am not a heartless, evil person who has no empathy for people when their loved ones die. But when my own mother died, I felt nothing. Nothing.
I don't miss your bragging that you passed the state boards with the highest grade ever recorded after I told you about graduating from college and passing my state boards. You had not seen me for 6 years. Only one letter in that time. No interest in me whatsoever. Why couldn't you just say "congratulations, I'm proud of you?" Instead you bragged and then said I probably went into healthcare because I am co-dependent. Way to stick the knife in and twist it.
So I find a first job and settle down to take care of my little girl. I try to visit you. We never hit it off, did we?
I don't miss your "borrowing" money for cigarettes and groceries to feed my young brother and sister. You were actually slick talking me into giving you money. If you were sooo much smarter and better than me, why didn't you work a job? I wanted to be sure little bub and sis were not going hungry.
I don't miss your obvious favoritism for one of my little sisters. Why did you make me and my little girl wait in the truck, in the snow for hours while you "straightened things out" with sissy? Didn't you care to ever straighten things out with me? We were not good enough to come into your presence? Why was I so stupid to sit and wait for her, putting my baby and myself in danger in the cold and in your crappy neighborhood? I was always conned into making dumb decisions for you.
I don't miss the letters you had little bub and sis send me berating me for moving my daughter and me away from your reach. What a touch of class to send back the birth announcement of your second granddaughter also. Heartless.
I don't miss believing all the bad things that happened to me when I saw you were somehow a result of you "teaching me a lesson about life" I actually thought that you had my perverted cousin try and kiss me. I thought that you encouraged him to try and watch me dress, and pull down my swimming suit in the pool. Curiously, it never occurred to you that I had a need for a larger size suit, now that I was into puberty. I was so embarrassed by the size of my breasts, and could not keep them covered. Since you left us with Daddy, I did not have a bra yet. Oh, and of course we had to go swimming when I was menstruating. You acted shocked that I was, as if you thought I was still a toddler...but I will give you that one, you left us the month of my 12th birthday. So much else was happening in your exciting life. How would you know that I was growing up and my body was changing in a perfectly natural way? Mom, I know you had to see all the uncomfortable attention teenage cousin was giving me. I don't miss the way you never protected me.
I don't miss my lack of trust in family members or people in general that you taught me to have. I don't miss feeling like I deserve to be punished for having my body and my personality and my brain. It is shocking to me now that I believed you had arranged for that man to molest me at the water park the last day I saw you as a child. I had finally been purchased a swimming suit that fit. But I remember your displeasure at any attention a male showed me. I actually believed you had paid the man who molested me in the wave pool to do it to "teach me a lesson" again. You wanted me to never trust a man or feel comfortable in my skin. I never reported the molestation or told anyone, because I thought it happened because of you. I was an ashamed 13 year old girl, and I truly blamed myself entirely for the whole incident. I believed that since I had a woman's body I had somehow asked for this to happen, and since I was so bad, Mom needed to teach me not to wear a swimming suit in public and not to trust men.
I don't miss the way you were always sad or mad. It was most awful when
Daddy was deployed. When I got home from school everyday I would think what did she find to be mad about today? Would I find my room dismantled, clothing dumped on the floor for me to fold properly and put away? Would I need to re-polish all the furniture because I had missed some dust on the dark mahogany wood in the dining room? Would I need to mow the lawn and weed again? Would every dish need rewashed because you had found a small speck on one? Maybe you would be upset that I did not like the dinner you slaved over last night, and it had just occurred to you.
Maybe you would yell my full name the minute my foot stepped on the porch. Then I knew there would be chores to do, but that you would cook dinner and take care of little sis. Maybe you would be sitting in your pajamas with a blank face like a lump on the couch just where I left you that morning. An empty potato chips bag would litter the coffee table. I knew that I would need to make sis a sandwich and keep her away from you. We could go outside or hide in the basement. I always helped sis with her homework anyways. But why would you always say that if I thought about it long enough, or if I even cared about you at all that I would figure out what was wrong with you that day.
You were the one who was supposed to care for and support us, children. Didn't you think we were sad or frightened also while Daddy was deployed?
I don't miss the stinging and burning and red welts and split knuckles that your wooden spoon left on my behind and hands. I don't miss the gleeful glint in your eyes that seemed to come when you said to fetch the spoon. You released your rage on my body, time after time. Little sis would cry, and I never cried. I only felt hot red anger boil up in me that you could scare her so badly. I wanted to tell her it was alright, but I knew you would just hit longer and harder if I did. I dreamed about turning around and ripping the thing away from you. I imagined the surprised look you would have when I threw them all away and screamed "no more!" I used to hide the stupid things and take them out in the trash. Why did you think you were justified in causing terror and pain to us?
I don't miss having to come out of my room, where children went to play quietly day after day, to request your permission to use the restroom. I never realized how bizarre and controlling this truly was. I think if there were a way, you would have made me request permission to think, feel and even breath. I was flawed and incapable from day one. How dare I have brown hair and green eyes? Everyone knew blondes with blue eye like sis were little angels. How dare I have opinions...gasp. How dare I love the sunshine and wind, dirt, trees and dogs, horses and bikes. But luckily you had a nice label for everyone. And as a little "Tomboy" I needed to learn to wear dresses, and cross my ankles and sit like a lady for endless hours folding my hands in my lap. Guess what Mom, you never succeeded in changing my opinions, my loves, my fascinations. You only fueled my imagination, my resourcefulness, my creativity.
There are endless volumes of things I don't miss about you MOM. But let me finish by telling you what I do miss. I miss the things I never had. I missed the hugs, the kisses, the laughter. I missed doing things with you. I missed talking to you. How many times I wished I could talk to a woman about life, marriage, pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, motherhood. I missed being valued. I miss being held, cradled, talked to, sung to. I know I missed these things because these are the things I do with my children. I love my children, each and everyone of them with all my heart. I can never understand how a mother could hold these things back from her babies. I missed being loved by you. I was NOT loved by you. It is still a deep wound that you did succeed in giving. You did "teach me a lesson" Mommy. I don't hold love back from others.
I know that when I die, my babies, and many other people will miss wonderful things about me..
How sad for you, my reluctant, sad, ill, hate filled Mommy. Rest in peace.
