Mommy Dearest

My mother and I have a strained relationship at best. She raised us with an iron fist, rice and beans and a little thing called “fear” (as was she). I’d like to think we had a good relationship once upon a childhood, but I don’t remember. I can pull up snippets of fun here and there, but nothing steady.

Things only worsened after dad surprised her with divorce papers moments before the clock struck midnight New Year’s Eve 2000. That broke her. And like a sponge I soaked it all in – the crying, the anger, the pain. Whenever she’d call me at school, I’d bear through the hysterics until I felt just as inconsolable as she did. We’d do this everyday. I thought this experience was at least bringing us closer since she kept running to me with her tears and frustrations, but in the long run it only distanced us further.

It took three years before I inevitably shut down. All my emotions were gone. I didn’t care whether I was nice or mean; I just was. Days would go by without speaking a word to my family and I’d shut myself off from the rest of the world. If I could have dug a hole, I would’ve nonchalantly crawled inside it. I was exhausted from feeling so much and if I had to become empty inside to not hurt anymore then so be it.

I’ve only started to open my heart again two years ago and the process has been long and slow.

Still, it's been hard having your mother right next to you, yet as much as you’d like to you just can’t reach out. There have been many times when I wanted her to hug me, to stroke my head, to tell me things will be ok. That no matter what happens I will always have her. But she and I don’t have that bond that I’ve always envied in other families. Families where children share their events of the day, their hopes, their dreams, failures and successes.

I wanted my mom when I was eager to share the ups and downs of my first relationship. I needed her when I cried for days on end when that relationship ended. Yes, I had close friends, a caring sister and a father who too often tries to overcompensate on the parental guidance, but sometimes a girl just needs her mom.

Yesterday, I was feeling really blue and had another crying fit. For some reason I decided to call her and in turn she surprised me by coming to my apartment by herself for the first time since I moved out four months ago. (I live a 15-minute bus ride away and she’s visited only four times).

After she dispensed her usual “comfort” – in the form of sweeping, dish washing, and cooking – (mind you I’m crying on the couch and the first thing she reaches for is a broom), came what I really needed. She pulled me close, put my head on her lap and let me know that things will get better. She ran her hands through my hair and in between moments of calm and never-ending sadness I listened to stories she’s shared about a million times yet never seem to grow old.

It lasted about an hour, but it felt like forever. I ended up going home with her for the night where we spent the rest of the day with the house to ourselves, curled up on the couch watching TV with my head on her lap. I know it’s only a matter of time before it all reverts and she lets anger get the best of her.

But at least I got my mom for a day. And hopefully for a while after that.

So, I'd love to know: how are your relationships with your mothers?