As a child, I loved my mother dearly. I always tried to imagine that we had a normal relationship and hoped that she would get better someday. Hope was all the power I had and I truly believed in it, even as I watched her slip further and further away.
I longed to be with my mother and spend time with her as most children probably feel that way, but our time together was never about nurturing me. Our conversations were usually about her unhappiness and whether or not she should take her medications. I would tell her that if she does not like the medication, she should not take it. What did I know; I was a little kid for heaven's sake! Often she would tell me that she wanted to kill herself, but the only thing to stop her was that she did not want to hurt me.
Believe it or not, I was not affected much by those circumstances, at least not back then. It was difficult to deal with, but I had HOPE that somehow I would be able to help and someday we would be a normal family.
Years passed until the situation became completely hopeless. That brings us to now. NOW, it hurts! She is beyond help, she will never get better, and I have never had a mother.
Throughout this pregnancy I have been asked by several people if my mother will come to help out when the new baby arrives. It is a normal question to ask a military spouse having a baby alone far away from home and people are just trying to gauge whether I may need help, but it stings every time. I can actually feel the hole in my heart get bigger and I have to fight back tears as I struggle to come up with an appropriate answer. Fortunately, I do have other family traveling over here to be with us.
Of course, I usually keep it to myself that my mother will not be able to make it because she is sitting in a small room of a shitty nursing home, pretending to be dying, and hoping that it will be soon.
I fully realize that she is ill and can not help it, but I don't know if I will ever fully forgive her for it. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I hate IT and not her.
