Day 11 of 30. Essays ” The Life of Peggy. A thirty-three year old, Kind Of Single Lady.”
Maybe I am slightly insane. I am most definitely awkward. I imagine all aspects in life with No Pants on.
When Mothers Day Means You Survived A Mother.
Mother’s Day has a different meaning for me. I don’t have a mom to call and say happy mothers day to. I don’t have a mother who would ever call me and say it if I had a child myself. My mother isn’t dead or passed on. She is alive and well…and in her own fantasy world of having been a perfect mom who sure made mistakes but for what we should pat her on the back for as it made us stronger. Yes. She has said that.
My mother is a Gemini is this makes any difference. She can one minute being a loving person with great understanding and advice.
And the next she is who I am telling my therapist of breaking a riding crop on my four year old self.
Now I face a tragic time in my life and she…chooses to keep condemning past the point of allowing it. To not be in my life and to not be helpful, loving, caring, supportive or even understanding and advice giving. Just…throw some memorized but certainly not understood, or followed, bible verses at me. And tell me that I deserved more than what I got.
I see others with their mom’s. Celebrating their mom’s. Mom’s proud to be a mom. Even of the children who have made plenty of terrible mistakes. And I hold a sadness that I just don’t have that mom. And so….Mother’s Day isn’t about celebrating a loving, supportive mom who carried me through to adulthood to be the woman I am now. But is instead a story of a journey of survival. Of the woman who is my mother. To this day, writing of my mother is the hardest struggle, aside from being loved by my mother.