Saturday, June 23, 2012

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.

18 comments:

  1. My heart breaks for you, Kelly. So much of this is a grieving process. Really great work. Glad to see you back at it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Kasie! It feels good to be writing again!

      Delete
  2. So sorry to hear about you hurting. I'm glad to see you processing your emotions through writing, though. Best wishes to you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Kelly, my heart goes out to you. You are experiencing a kind of death; it is entirely appropriate for you to mourn and grieve. It takes a lot of time and grace to get through something like this (and you won't "get over" it-- there's no "getting over" deep grief. There's only getting through it.).
    It sounds like you have good support in your husband, kids, and the rest of your family. That doesn't mean you won't still feel alone in your grief. That is also appropriate, as you are mourning your unique relationship with the only mother you will ever have.
    I wish you peace and comfort; I wish you joy in remembering better times. <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your kind words of support are appreciated, not only by myself, but by my entire family.

      Delete
  5. Dear Kelly -
    It is so good to see you again.

    The computer lost the comment I originally wrote and I am having trouble re-writing it. I did write you a personal message on FB.

    Be gentle with yourself. I know you want to be at that place where you have learned all the lessons so you won't hurt again. I am learning the same lesson but in a different context. No one can know the "right" way to walk this path. You are learning as you walk this life road. You are self-reflective and strong. You can only walk the path as yourself and you will do it in your own way because it is your own path. The way you travel your life road is perfect in the eyes of the one it matters. Let it be perfect in your eyes.

    Blessings to you, your father, your sister and your immediate family. Blessings to your mother, too.

    Monique

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Monique. You are so right...we are all doing the best we can, trying to make our way.

      Delete
  6. I am so sorry you are experiencing this, and your family too. I don't know what's wrong with her, but can feel your love and sorrow. Keeping you in my heart's prayers.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to stop by and share your kind thoughts.

      Delete
  7. You know Kelly, I do this all the time. I write scripts in my head, especially scripts re: mother and when they don’t act out to what I’ve written I get upset/sad/depressed. I have an overbearing control freak mother and am an only child. I have to keep reminding myself that she isn’t the loving, supporting mother I wish or see glimpses of. Never was...never will be. But, I have a second chance to make things right: I’m a mother and I can be all to my children that she is not to me. Feeling much sympathy and love for you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for sharing that, Veronica. I am learning from this experience, and hopefully the things I learn can be of help to others someday.

      Delete
  8. Kelly: This blog post was so nicely and lightly written. That is amazing that you are able to hold on to memories of your mother despite her changes. Best wishes as you continue your journey into acceptance and a different form of love.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Kelly, I think some of the hardest losses we experience are those where death isn't the culprit but something else is--maybe a terrible, debilitating illness like your mother's (either physical or mental), or a deeply hurtful severing of a relationship that separates us from someone we love (like a painful divorce), but that other person is still alive. I think the grief process is much the same as when someone we love dies. I'm glad you have a strong support system, and I'm glad you have these expressions of support here. I'm also glad that you have the strength and courage put such complex, difficult feelings into words. That in itself is a priceless gift. Savor the good memories, but get it all down, the good and the bad.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Gerry. Despite this sad situation, I do consider myself lucky in so many other ways.

      Delete
  10. the day when we become the parents and our parents the children is a horrible day. it's frustrating to see the person and not have them mentally be the same person we loved for so long. i cannot begin to know how hard this must be for you, but i applaud your effort to still say that "i love you" because too often people give up and have regrets. at least you will walk away knowing you handled it the best you could.

    ReplyDelete