Wednesday, July 29, 2009

My mama

I know that someday I will have to live without my mom. I get that. That doesn't mean that I have to think about it, or even consider that it would be anytime soon.
I don't have the energy to really get into the topic of my father, but let's leave it as this: he has a temper, some jealousy/control issues, a lot of anger/yelling issues, and told my mom, me, and my sister my whole young life that we were worthless. It is a long, complicated, guilt ridden, sad story, that I'm not sure I'm ready to blog about yet or ever really will be.
I don't know if it's because of that, or not, but I have the opposite relationship with my mom.
She has always made me believe that I can do absolutely anything that I want to. She taught me that no matter what, the right thing to do is to tell the truth. This is one of the things in my life that I am most proud of. I am a good communicator (well, in my mind, at least :) because of the way I learned to communicate with her. I have told her almost everything-so close to everything that I may as well get on with telling her that last thing. She makes me laugh. She annoys me beyond belief on the telephone. She says "I seen" instead of "I saw" and "them" instead of "those" and it makes me stick my tongue out at her.

Growing up, my dad was a total control freak about money. He literally wouldn't give me a dollar at times when I'd ask for it. If he read this, he'd deny it and say that it was his income that gave me what I wanted growing up. But I remember. I remember that my dad made a lot more money than my mom and that he paid all the bills. My mom's check was more or less spending money, which she spent on us. We'd go shopping, out to lunch, to movies. If I needed something for school, she would make sure I had it-even if what she made wasn't enough. She'd lie to my dad about what she was buying if he disagreed. I had what I needed to fit in, to make my place in school, to get good stuff for projects, to go places with my friends. She'd leave $20 bills on the seat of my car when I'd pout that I didn't have enough gas money. I had a job, too, starting when I was 12, so don't think I was spoiled-she made sure of that. I can remember begging to go out with my friends (and listen, I was the kind of kid that watched movies and went mini-golfing in high school-for real. nope, that's it-no sex, drugs, or rock'n roll) and my dad didn't want me to go. My mom would just say, "Honey, go-don't worry about it" and I could hear them screaming at each other as I'd pull out of the driveway. She knew that would happen, and she went against him anyway for me.
My mom knows it all. She's done it all.
She's been through it all.
I knew growing up that I had a sister, Mary, that had died. I knew she was a baby when she died. I never really remember hearing the whole story, so once I became old enough to understand, I thought it was Sids.
2 weeks before my water broke, it was a Friday afternoon and I just decided to call my mom from school to her work just to see what she was up to (we talk a few times a week, at least). Somehow, someway, the conversation of Mary came up. I asked her questions, she actually told me the whole story, which I had never known.
She told me that she was born still at full term. That they hadn't let her see her or hold her. That her mom and mom-in-law had gone home before her to clean out the entire nursery like it had never been there. That my dad blamed her for what happened. They had a private memorial service so that no one else would have to come. I asked her how she made it through and she said, "You just do."
Mary would be 33 this year. My mom still visits her grave on her birthday, April 11th.
My babies were born and died April 13th.
Was she in someway getting me ready for what happened? She had never talked about it before, and then right before this all happened to me, we had this amazing conversation where she opened up, even though it hurt her.
Today my mom called and said she was having heart pain. Her mom had her first heart attack at around 50, my mother is 54.
I just couldn't take it.
In my head, all day, I begged God. Then I threatened Him. Then I told my husband-Listen-there are two people in this world that I can and that is you and my mother so please, please start praying this is nothing.
I guess, if this whole disaster that is my life has taught me anything, it's that if I had to, I know I could. But I really, really don't want to.
I love my mama.


Tina said...

I will be praying for you and your mom...I hope it is nothing!

Bluebird said...

What a beautiful post - an awesome tribute to an obviously amazing woman. I feel like I know her spirit just by reading your words :)

I am sorry for the heartache you have both endured, and pray that this pain is, in fact, "nothing."

Catherine W said...

I'm so sorry that you lost your sweet sister, Mary. I'm so sorry for your mom, that she lost her precious daughter. And for the aftermath. How awful.

It must mean that she understands your heartbreak over Sophie and Aiden in a special way. But it is so sad that she does. It must have hurt her terribly to see you, her own precious daughter, going through a pain that she knows herself.

I think that is what I have taken out of this experience. You've summed it up perfectly Christy. If I had to, I know I could.

But I really hope you don't have to. Of course you love your mama, you've written about her so beautifully here. I will be hoping and praying that this heart pain is nothing serious.


Anonymous said...

Oh, Christy, please let us know how your mom is! I'm praying for her and for you! I can't even think about losing either of my parents. How can I still need them so much when I'm almost 40? What a beautiful connection you and your mom made. I'm so glad she was brave and shared her story with you.

Kristy ~ said...

You are so lucky to have such an amazing relationship with your mom. I think its so special that your mom told you her much as it sucks that you can relate to her and her feelings, its great that you have someone so close to you that you can lean on in those tough days.

I am thinking of you and your mom. I hope that everything is okay. Please update us when you can.