What happens when you lose your mother? I’ve lost mine.
Not to death or disease or distance- to her choices. She’s changed; she’s not my mother anymore. I can’t bring myself to speak with her because it’s too painful. My fear is that communication will confirm to me how far she is from who she used to be. I fear it will leave no space for hope in my mind. I fear it will heighten the agony I already feel when I think of her.
She once taught me that marriage was the most important thing; but now she has turned her back on it. She once taught me that the sacrifices a mother makes for her children are without limit; now she is choosing herself over our needs. She once taught me to be honest; now she is an expert at living a lie, at leading a double life. She once taught me the difference between right and wrong; now she’s breaking all of her own rules.
What do you do when something you thought was solid crumbles into dust before your eyes, and all you can do is stand helpless and watch it happen? How do you recover from having your idea of stability shattered? Can you ever trust again? Can you still believe in all the things you once held faith in?
I love my children. I would do anything for them. Why doesn’t my mother love me like that? Did she once? What on earth made that change? What could change something so innate in me, something so fundamental? The uncertainty terrifies me. I wish I had all the answers. I wish I knew if the answers even exist.
She’s my mother. That’s what keeps rolling through my mind. She’s my mother. But how can she be?