Yes, I know that’s going to make a lot of people angry. So be it. You’ll get over it. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE most mothers. I have had strong, amazing mother figures throughout my life showing me how it *should* be done and I am grateful they took me under their wings. Virgie, Brenda, Sandra, even Carolyn and Barbara – all had a part in molding me and helping me in those formative years. And I love them so much for the mothering they gave me, especially Virgie. Virgie was definitely my surrogate growing up – and still is. She took me everywhere with her family – weekly skating jaunts, tons of trips to the beaches and to state parks in the camper, anywhere the Todds went, I was welcome and invited. She also watched over me with an eagle eye and when Jennifer got in trouble for something we were both doing, so did I. I cried in her arms more times than I can count and ate more of her chocolate chip pancakes than I care to admit.
I am truly happy for all my friends out there who are mothers and who are doing it right. Yes, I know there’s “no right or wrong” when it comes to parenting since everyone is learning, but come on…there IS a wrong way. I’m glad for all you lovely ladies who are raising children to respect their elders, work hard for what they get, and live honestly. I am thankful for my friends who realize that motherhood isn’t for them for one reason or another and are abstaining from it. I’m happy there are fur baby mamas, like myself, who are focusing their attention on raising critters, rather than humans, because that’s what they can handle or want to do. I’ve often wondered if I didn’t have children because I was afraid I would hurt them like she did me.
I try to put on a brave face and smile with the rest of the world and enjoy the endless stream of mommy pictures on my Facebook feed, whether the mothers are still here or not, but I really just want to throw my device out the window. This should be a happy day for me, for my mother, for so many others. But for friends who mothers have dearly departed, it brings a myriad of emotions that leaves them feeling lonely and numb for a day. For others, like me, whose mothers are still here but not really, I want to just blare some really mean chick music and curse like a sailor. It’s been so long and I have tried so hard, but I’m still angry. There is no closure. I have never said to her all the ways she hurt me, how much I’ve cried and been sad, and how awful I think she is. I gave her a choice – alcohol or me. She made her decision. I know it’s a disease and I know that alcoholics don’t necessarily have a choice, but she’s tried to get better and goes back every time. Fine, have it your way. Drink yourself to death and do whatever you want. Don’t write me asking me for a truce – we’re not fighting. We’re not anything. Because you can’t stop drinking. So thank you. Thank you for giving me life. I really DO appreciate that and am so thankful you did. I love you for that. But that’s where it ends. Until you get help and until you stop drinking, Mother’s Day will be an annual reminder of how you hurt me, how you abandoned me, and how you chose liquor over your family. I hope you enjoyed it. I hope it brought you flowers.
Screw Mother’s Day.