Lately, I've been pretty grumpy with the kids, and my oldest daughter in particular. I haven't been sure why, and I've been trying to figure it out. On the way home as I was listening to my ipod, "Because of You, by Kelly Clarkson came on and it hit me. The anniversary of my mom's death is coming in a few weeks. It seems I have been mirroring some of my mother's worst behaviors lately and haven't been conscious of it.
My mom and I had a complicated relationship to say the least. She grew up in an abusive household having to take care of her brothers while her depressed mom hid from her responsibilities. Her father was cold and distant having had to learn to take care of his family at age 13 when his own father killed himself. When she married my father, my mom escaped all of that. She ended up pregnant faster than she expected and began having to take care of her own children before she was ready. Add to that a severely disabled child, one miscarriage, then me and you've got a woman on the edge.
Family lore says that before my disabled brother came along my mom was already a mess. She was depressed and abusive to my brother and sister. Apparently, she ended up in an mental institution where the treatment of the time was electric shock therapy. Combine that with the fact that my dad was a pharmacist and could keep her in meds, and you've got - well - a prescription for a mess.
My oldest brother and sister tell me that the mom I grew up with was different than the one they had. She abused me, just in different ways. My brother understands that - my sister still resents me, although she won't admit it to me. After my dad died, my relationship with my mom got worse. She was on a heinous cocktail of prescription drugs, depressed beyone belief and I was out of control, and responsible for way too much.
Over the years, she had many health scares, threatened suicide, and tried to commit suicide. In fact, she wasn't at my wedding because she had threatened to kill herself and my brother had her committed for observation.
After I moved away and gained some distance, with help and healing from the Lord, I began to rebuild a relationship with her, but it wasn't easy. I was always on my guard with her. She always knew what to say to get me worked up, feeling guilty, etc. I let her push my boundaries. When it came to my children, I tried to encourage a relationship between them, but it was hard because she lived so far away, and I felt so very protective of them.
During the last months of her life, she was finally going to get out of the town that had kept her trapped for so long. After an extended hospital stay - during which she came back from the brink of death -- again -- she entered a rehab facility to continue the healing process. My brother got her an apartment across from his (in another state) so she could be by both of her sons. All of us went to that town one last time to pack up her life into a U-haul to be driven away for good.
My siblings and I had a great time that weekend. Bonding over that experience is something we will never forget. When I talked to her, she was so happy. That was the last time I would talk to her - but I had no idea. A few weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant again and was preparing to call her. My brother left me a message while I was at work that I needed to call right away. The news was so unexpected. While recovering in rehab, she developed an internal bleed and died before anyone knew what was happening. I couldn't believe it. The woman who cheated death so many times and begged God to take her had finally gone to be with Him.
How do I know she's with Him? Because I'm the one that prayed with her many years ago to accept Him. My brother and I prayed with and for her many times over the years.
We learned that over the months before she died, one of our cousins figured out that she was taking medicines that were conflicting with each other and causing severe personality changes. She probably had been for many years since she doctor shopped continually. My brother and I both saw her beginning to change before she died. I still grieve for what was lost when she died. The chance for us to have a real relationship after all of the wasted years inhibited by drugs, mental disorder, and spiritual oppression. But, I rejoice because I know she is with my father, free from the mental and physical disease. Free to rejoice, free to to worship, and free to watch over our family and watch over my children that I have lost until I can join them too.
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