So tonight my roommates and I were enjoying our study-break time together during this stressful week of final exams, and the topic of mothers came up when my roommate Cat mentioned her mother's constant facebook updates about her daughter.. Two other roommates had similar stories about their moms displaying their pride in their daughters via the world wide web, as well..
Lots of mother talk ensued, followed by family talk...
It felt just like the Mother's Days we used to have in Elementary school.. the ones where we would make some cutesy craft or picture for our moms and show them when they all came in to take a group picture with us..
There were several times like that.. Teachers would send home a permission sheet, and they would tell us to ask our moms to sign it; moms would come in to read to the class; moms volunteered to work in the school clinic.. My dad worked full time as well as being the single parent of three, and he couldn't do all of that school volunteer stuff. I probably wouldn't have wanted him to, anyway. I love my dad very much, but it was the principle of having a mom there that I missed. And that's what it felt like tonight.. I wished I had the memories like they do, good ones, to speak of.
I have always had a mother, but never a mom..
I have had a few brief moments, but never the real thing.. Snapshots of my brother, sister, and I visiting several different rehab centers; birthday cards on most that she missed, always telling me she was getting better and would be home soon; the few on and off months she lived with us, catching her drunk upstairs with my younger brother in the room trying to make her stop; I even had almost 2 years of sobriety with her.. 2 years that I will never forget.. But all of these moments were ruined with one sip.
To this day, I still am unsure if it is the disease or the choosing of alcohol and drugs over us that has caused her absence in my life..
I miss having a mom.. I know I have moms in my life, specifically Connor's, who take such great care of me and love me dearly, but it is not the same..
Sadly, I don't even know where my own mother is or what she is doing.. Is she still in jail? Is she out? Why am I getting phone calls from both inside and outside prison, then? I don't answer, so I have no way of knowing..
I can't answer. It hurts to talk to her. (But doesn't it hurt just as much to ignore?)
She put my grandmother in the hospital this time. Mama Sissy had to have surgery, and she'll probably stay in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. My mother strangled and hurt my aunt, her sister. And of course she said and did the same awful things that she does every. single. time. she is under the influence of alcohol and cocaine.
I can't just let that go.
My mother always comes at me with, "Haley, you know what it's like to have a problem.. to have an addiction, you have one too.. you can't judge me."
And that tears me up so bad.. she knows that it does.
It makes me feel like I'm just like her when I want so badly not to be.
I don't know what to do anymore.
I want to be there for her. I want her to know how loved she is, because I truly do love her with every fiber of my being, otherwise I would have given up on her long, long ago.
But the hurt is so heavy now.. heavier than ever before.
Talk of mothers hasn't cut so deeply since I was 7 years old and my mother had just recently left us..
I love you Mom. I haven't given up; I just can't have my heart ripped to pieces to be half-stitched back together one more time..