Patterns of a Naive Girl

As I sit here, after much too long away from the keyboard, I am noticing a pattern in my behavior.  We are going on eight months of trying to navigate through the tragedy surrounding my mother, and if I had made a prediction at the onset, I would have thought that by now we would be in the clear.  She would be back to her old self, calling a few times a day and commenting on my Facebook posts.  Dad would be happily settling into his dream condominium, appreciating what seemed to be in jeopardy months ago.  I'd be planning summer visits to their place, kids in tow, making up for the hectic school year that prevents us from being together as often as I would prefer.  That's what I thought right now would look likem but I was wrong, big time. 

I am naive, a trait I have pointed out before, and that could be the driving force behind my repetitive behavior.  Here is how it seems to go:

• A number of weeks will go by without speaking to her, the longest being six weeks.  This is when my naivete kicks in, and I start to think maybe things are not as bad as I had thought.  Maybe this is a situation I can somehow work with, somehow create a new kind of relationship within her world.
• Something happens that makes me call her; she leaves a voicemail, sends a Facebook message or text.  Off the bat, her voice makes me tremble, and it feels good to hear the voice I have missed so much.
• The conversation starts out light, and inevitably goes quickly downhill.  I find myself on the receiving end of screaming threats and attempts to make me feel badly, as if I am partially responsible for this horrid situation.  No matter how poorly it goes, however, I never stop listening, never hang up on her.  At this point, I am getting used to predicting when she will hang up, and I always make sure I get in an I love you before it happens.
• She hangs up, and I realize that it is, in fact, that bad.  Perhaps worse.

This last cycle is when I realized the pattern, and I imagine it will continue for the rest of my life.  She was my mother for my whole life;  she loved me and cared about me for that whole time.  That is the person my memory will recall when weeks go by without hearing from her.  That is the person I miss, the person I know is somewhere deep inside, and simply unable to surface.  I will forever love and adore that person and hold her tightly in my dreams as I slowly try to let her go.

As I reread this post, I realize that it sounds as if I have lost some hope.  Honestly, I have, which says a lot coming from a perpetually optimistic person like myself.  This has gone on for a long time, and it is only getting worse with each passing day, week, and month.  I have run out of ways to help.  As that eternal optimist, however, I choose to shift my positive energy to the great things I foresee ahead.  I think that is where my posts will go next, because that is something I can control.