could you be my therapist for a minute??

With all the wonderful feedback that I got from my last post I really felt encouraged to talk about my mother, and her passing.  Please forgive me if I ramble or what have you.  Forgive me this is long… 

My mother was a colourful woman.  She was a smart girl, champion swimmer.  She even managed to set a Canadian record for the breast stroke, I have the trophy somewhere.  She was a daughter to two rough edged, strict parents.  Her mother was ten years her husband’s senior and passed away sometime around the time my mother was fourteen I think.  My mother never spoke to me about the details dates etc… of her mother’s passing.  She would just give me disjointed tales of her mother taking her out of dancing “even though [she] told her never to pull [her] out of dance,” throwing kitchen knives at her when she was a teen, or how she never let me mother eat junk food.  My mother never ended up having her first ice cream sundae till she was in her thirties… I know, WTF?!?!  Of course my mother eventually met boys, drugs and the 60s.  She experimented too much and in bad ways, got involved with some horrible men.  One of these men would break into her house at night and sodomize her she would say with her huge eyes practically reaching for me.  She ended up stabbing him with a ten inch kitchen knife and being placed in the psychiatric ward; I think maybe this is when they found out she was a schizophrenic but I could be wrong, as I am unsure when her official diagnosis was.  It’s true I have the newspaper clipping; I found it in her bible… strange place to keep it. 

Later in life she met with cervical cancer.  She said that the only thing that got her threw that alive was marrying my sister’s father.  She did and the doctors told her she wouldn’t have children.  She magically got pregnant with her first miracle child, where she ended up hemorrhaging and needed two pints of blood.  Later we found out that she contracted Hep C from that blood, she was not eligible for compensation from the government because of her drug use in her youth.  He wasn’t a good husband, made lots of stupid mistakes.  She said she would have women phoning her asking for him, at one point a woman came to their house.  He sold her jewelry for drugs and was abusive towards both my mother and older sister when she was a child.  They ended up staying in a women’s shelter.  I am foggy on the details and I am sure I haven’t done justice to what my sister had to go through during those times.  I don’t pry, one day maybe I will find out.  They did end up getting a divorce and were best friends EVERYDAY after that point, in fact he is like a second father to me, and you would definitely never see him do that now a days.  He is one of the most intelligent, gentle-men I know now.  He’s a big child at heart with a few boundary issues mixed with a dash of paranoia.  

In between my sister and I my mother ended up having a, what she called, "tubular pregnancy," After this she only had one fallopian tube and was of course re-told she wasn't going to be able to conceive.

Eventually my mother met my father who was ironically my sister’s father’s best friend back in their high school days.  They “accidentally” had me, my father was a drunk.  My mom took care of my sister and I virtually alone and when she wasn’t she was drunk and my sister was caring for me.  My mom would tell me that when she was pregnant with me she saw mother Mary come to her lay her hand on my mother’s stomach and say this to her belly: “Give her the strength of nine oxen,” my mother was convinced this is why I was so fiery.  She always thought that I was strong; I have moments in my life which make me disagree with her sometimes.  But I’m definitely kind of a bitch so I guess it fits for most cases, and I do have a short temper and passionate view… wow way to sugar coat it lol. 

Threw out my life my mom, my sister and I all suffered.  But we all loved each other, and I am thankful that.   Most of my childhood is foggy and not really there; why I don’t know but I am sure that it is better for that reason.  Things I hear from my sister make me think that what I remember is all unicorns and rainbows, but as a child you are innocent and are unaware of the bad that is going on.  Eventually my father got custody of me and I was forced to live with him from eight years old till grade twelve.  In that time I had about five inches worth of social services records and 358 IGNORED cases.  My father was a manipulative, sick man.  Though of course loving and caring, but he was a drunk and that can only make you function so much.  There were days I would not have lunches, friends were packing me extra ones to bring to school for me, and I never received new clothing.  But since my father was a “psychologist” he usually ended up talking his way out of whatever trouble I got him into.  At one point I stayed with my high school boyfriend and there family, at which point I stayed with my aunt and uncle for a week.  During this week they told me how they would take care of me, put me on a waiting list to this performing arts school, help me start to drive… then they took me home.  After a few social service meetings and after multiple times of them saying YES.  They said no.  They didn’t want my father in their lives… neither did I??  Didn’t they understand that?  So I wont talk to them anymore.  They hurt me.  Abandoned me, after they lifted my hopes so high.  Then eventually my father got us evicted and I returned home, as a teenager, to my mother.  My sick scared mother.  I took up a job after school to help out, I commuted to West Vancouver everyday for school.  Waking up at 4am, going to school, coming home, going to work, repeat.  I ended up leaving my boyfriend at the time and started to become a little wild… well not really I met my now hubby at a bakery.  Nonetheless the shock of having a little girl, too having a teenage daughter was a lot for my mom and she ended up kicking me out.  Hubby took me in.

Eventually we all know what happened, I became pregnant with eldest, had eldest and his first Christmas was spent with my very sick mother.  We found out she had lung cancer half way through my pregnancy.  But she never said she was terminal, and I think she knew.  Once eldest was born I was so overwhelmed, no that is not an excuse I know, I didn’t see her as often as I should have.  She never told me how much help she needed.  People are telling me after she passed away how she would fall and would be stuck on the floor!  WHERE WAS I?!?! WHY DIDN’T SOMEONE TELL ME!!  Then she stopped picking up my calls… I could FEEL something was wrong and no one could find her.  I couldn’t find her.  When I did the nurses at the hospital said she had “twenty four hours if that, your grandparents are here.”  Yes that’s right.  My grandparents. 

Now we know my mom’s mother passed away but what I didn’t add here was that he ended up later marrying his late wife’s  baby cousin.  Who had already been threw three husbands before him.  This woman is sick, vile.  I can’t describe what a horrible person she is, my sister had to flee to AZ on a “vacation” just to escape them (she moved in with them when she was 16.)  These are the same people that decided to have nothing to do with me after my father got custody of me.  Granted my father is a horrible person and I can understand not wanting to deal with him, but I’m your baby granddaughter?  What on earth did I do other than be born into this world to that man?! Whom I don’t like any more than they do.  These people were there, where there the whole time, have been there the whole time and not ONE call.  They could have contacted anyone if they tried, but they didn’t.  Here is my mother on her death bed, unable to speak to me, unable to open her eyes to see me and unable to move or eat.  I called my sister immediately and within 24 hours she was on a plane and in Vancouver.  I wouldn’t even let my grandparents lay sight on eldest; I covered the stroller and stood in front of it.  I was so angry.  I am still so angry. They even took everything of worth out of her apartment before she had even died… they took her TV.  Who the hell does that?!? 

My mother ended up waiting until Sunday morning to pass away.  I got a call at about 1:30am Sunday morning to “I am so sorry, but your mother has passed away.  Would you like to come see her?”  I didn’t, seeing my mother almost dying broke my heart I have no idea what seeing her dead body would have done to me mentally.  So that is it… that is how I found out…This is all i can handle right now...

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