posted
It's illogical that I should be upset about it, because she was abusive to me throughout my childhood, and we were estranged. I haven't seen her in four years.
Whatever else she might have been, she was your mother. And no matter how impossible you may have known it to be, some tiny part of you likely held out hope that she would someday become the mother she should have been. And her death makes that absolutely impossible.
In this life, at least.
So no, I wouldn't call your feelings illogical. Not, as Morbo pointed out, that feelings are particularly subject to logic.
Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
<<<<<Yozhik>>>>> All losses will be restored, and all lacks made up and then some, dear sister Yozhik. I'm so sorry for the loss of your mother, and for the loss you've always felt of the mother she should have been.
Posts: 968 | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
(((((((((((((((((((((Yozhik)))))))))))))))))))) I'm sorry. Here you will always be able to find all hugs and comfort you need. Just ask !
Posts: 3526 | Registered: Oct 2001
| IP: Logged |
I'm so sorry for your loss. No matter the circumstances the grieving process will be long, but it is supposed to take time. Whatever emotions you may feel, don't judge them just allow yourself to work through them and take your time.
posted
(((Yozhik))) I am so sorry for your loss and for your pain. I think that in many ways it is harder to loose a mother when the memories you keep of her are not comforting.
Posts: 12591 | Registered: Jan 2000
| IP: Logged |
posted
Oh Yohzik, I'm so sorry. It's not surprising at all that you'd be feeling this way. ((Yohzik))
Posts: 16059 | Registered: Aug 2000
| IP: Logged |
posted
Thank you to everyone for your replies. This week was better than last week. I am mostly trying not to obsess about it since I have the rest of the semester to get through and I have to do well because there's no point in flushing my scholarship down the toilet.
I appreciate the understanding that you have shown. Usually, when I have to admit to people (especially at church) that I don't have contact with my mother, they look at me like I've just announced that I eat live babies for breakfast.
They weren't there. They don't know.
So now she is dead and sometimes I feel sad, but sometimes I just feel calm. Safe. Like I can go on with my life now.
I wonder if I will be able to talk to her in the next life. I wonder what she would say. I wonder if she would apologize and then we could have a good laugh about what a lousy parent she was.
------------------ The Ugly Duckling
Once there was a hen. The hen sat on an egg until it hatched. The chick that came out looked a little strange to the hen. Instead of a narrow, sharp beak, the chick had a flat, rounded one. Instead of claws, she had odd leaflike feet.
"What an ugly chick," thought the hen. "But she is all mine, since I hatched her. She will stay with me and be my little chick forever."
As the chick grew, the hen told her that she was an ugly chick and it was lucky for her that the hen took care of her. The chick knew that this was true. So she tried to do whatever the hen wanted, because she knew that if she did not, the hen would not love her any more.
However, the hen became more and more upset with the chick as time went by. When the chick grew feathers, they didn't look very much like chicken feathers, so the hen tried to pluck them out. The hen did not like the webbing between the chick's toes (because she herself didn't have any webbing, and could not imagine why any hen would want to have it) so whenever she noticed it, she pecked at it with her sharp cruel beak. (The chick got used to walking with her feet scrunched up so that the webbing was hard to see.)
And when the hen caught the chick fluttering her wings and trying to fly, the hen, who had never flown, took strips of cloth and bound them around the chick's wings. The chick cried out in pain, but it was worth it to the hen, to know that her little chick would always stay safely in the hen yard.
One day, years later, the gate to the hen yard got open somehow, and the chick waddled out the gate and down the path until she came to a pond.
In the middle of the pond, some strange birds were swimming. Slowly, she stepped into the pond and swam out to meet them. Swimming felt wonderful.
"Hello," she said to them. "Who are you?" "We are ducks," they said, "and we are flying south to the marsh. It is beautiful there and there are wonderful things to eat." With that, the strange birds flew swiftly away.
"I want to fly south too, to the marsh," thought the chick. "I do not want to live in the hen house any more."
She began to pull at the strips of cloth that bound her wings. It took a long time to get them off. Finally, she pulled away the last strip of cloth.
Then she saw that her wings were nothing like the broad, powerful wings of the ducks. They were tiny and weak, with twisted bones and almost no feathers.
These wings could not fly, and they never would.
The chick thought for a long time, and cried for a long time.
The hen called from the hen yard, "Where are you, my little chick? Come back at once, or you'll be sorry! How can you abandon me after all I've done for you?"
"I am not your little chick. I am a duck. And I am going to live in the marsh." With that, the duck turned her back on the hen yard and began walking southward.
Posts: 1512 | Registered: A Long Time Ago!
| IP: Logged |