Guilt and Ambiguity

I really don't miss my mother.

There. I said it. I really don't miss my mother.

She has been gone for four-and-a-half years, and frankly, there are other women in my life who I miss more.

My mother loved me; I know she did. I never felt she didn't. She just was a very difficult person. She was harsh and judgmental and she could be very mean and tactless. As she grew older she became even more intolerant of anything that didn't fit into her narrow ideas about how things should be.

Mom saw things as very black-and-white, for example, either you were well-dressed, in an outfit she approved of (and you were never, ever to go without stockings or socks, even in sandals) or you weren't. You were a millionaire, or a failure. Only white-collar, well-compensated jobs were worthwhile. Your kids were either well-behaved, straight-A students or they were delinquents. If you weren't very slim, you were a fat slob.

It was very difficult, enduring endless criticism and disapproval, but I kept trying.

I firmly believe that Mom suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder, which is characterized by black-and-white thinking, fear of abandonment, mood swings and impulsivity. But while it is an explanation, it isn't an excuse. Mom was also intelligent and had access to the best psychiatric care available--she just had so much fear and anxiety that she couldn't have changed if she'd tried.

So here it is Mother's Day. I used to spend at least twenty minutes each year selecting a card for her. She wanted mushy and sentimental; she hated jokey, flippant cards. She wanted to be revered, loved, honored. But it was so difficult to do that. One card would wax on about the angelic, caring mother--nope. Another would go on about the mom who was never angry. No again. Finally I would find one that struck the right note between gratitude for her sacrifices and love, but not carry over into gushing about unconditional support and sweetness. She was usually very happy with the cards I sent.

So it is with mixed emotions that I approach Mother's Day. I have at least one child who thinks I'm sadly lacking as a mom. I have another who thinks I'm terrific. Whatever. All I can say is that I did my best. I am sure that my best wasn't good enough sometimes, but that is life. None of us is perfect.

So, to my imperfect mom, I love you. I appreciate all the good things you taught me and I forgive the difficulties. And to my children--you mean the world to me. I taught you the best I could to be decent, hard-working, and faithful.

Happy Mother's Day.

A Perspective on Home

I am home after 28 days away. What a marathon trip. I love my family, and I felt good to be able to help them all with what they needed. I spent the first week with my son's family, taking a day with my dad, and the next week with my older daughter and her baby, with days spent with my younger daughter. Then my husband arrived and we spent time with each of them again, and when he left I spent three days with my dad again. I got sick with the 'flu two days before I left. Yikes. I still feel lousy.

Living out of a suitcase for a month was less of a challenge than I had thought it might be. So I get home, and I want to get rid of all my clothes! I certainly don't need all I have, but I like having it. I do feel less inclined to shop and acquire more. So I get rid of a bit here and there.

Fortunately, despite ditching my diet, I only gained a bit over a pound. I have lost 17 pounds since December 30. What a relief. I still want to lose 5 more, but it is nice to be comfortable in my clothes again.

"The wise woman knows that even when she has done all she can, there will always remain more people who could use her help, and she is satisfied anyway." (Paraphrased from a talk by Julie Beck, I think!) I am trying to be satisfied with what I have done, rather than dwell on what I have not been able to complete.

Now to get back into my routine.

Grandmere is Available

I am in Utah at the home of my son and his family. I was supposed to get here on April 2, but I changed my flight because their newborn has been in the hospital with RSV, a viral infection that can be fatal to newborns.

Having a new baby is stressful, and having a new baby with a child at home is even worse. They were cobbling together child care and the house was a wreck, so I got on the next plane I could. Now I am here for nearly a month, and I hope I will get to see a lot of friends and get to do some things I usually cannot when I am here making a whirlwind trip.

Fortunately, things have worked out for me to be able to do this. I was laid off of my job a month ago. This causes me some worry, as I am spending a lot of money to be here and also to get my book, "If You Say You're Gonna Kill 'em, You Have to Kill 'em," a childrearing book, online. I saved most of the money I made during the prior six months, so I have a little cushion, but I was hoping to keep that in savings. So it goes. Still, I have the time and the health and the ability to help care for my family, and that is very important to me. 

The Spirit bore witness to me that I should do this, and it is my experience that I need to listen and obey, so I did. The baby is home now, but still needs to be taken in to the hospital daily for suction of his airways. But he is doing well, and is beautiful and well-loved. 

I am where I should be.

Blunders

Sometimes I feel unutterably inadequate. Actually, make that a lot of the time.

My boss dressed me down for a mistake I made last Tuesday, and now, Sunday, it still is bothering me. I feel that so often, I stick out my neck and I get a bop on the head. The story of my life. I suppose that when the end of my life comes, I will be glad I stuck out said neck and suffered the blows on the head rather than carefully living my life so that I avoid all problems. But in the meantime, I humiliate myself on a regular basis.

I pray fervently every day that I can bless the lives of people I come across. I pray that I can bless the lives of my customers, to not make mistakes at work, to serve as a good example of a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. So I get very frustrated when my good intentions come to naught or are misinterpreted.

This past year has been so very, very hard. I believe in God; I know Christ lives and that I am loved by my father in Heaven, but the good things are so few and far between. I know each day is a gift, and that looking for the small tender mercies that really are there every day, helps. I really need some truly good things to happen, though. And not just for me--for my children. I feel so beaten down by life.

Life with young children was difficult, it is true, and I longed for the day when they didn't need me so much. But then comes the time that they are adults, and when they make decisions that are in conflict with the Gospel or are just plain lazy or dumb, it really can be devastating. When they are small, they can break your spirit, but when they are adults, they can break your heart. It is so difficult to maintain optimism when I consider that there may be empty chairs around my table in the afterlife.

However, that is what God experiences too.

Validation

I dreamed I was visiting my college last night. I majored in broadcast journalism and I graduated 35 years ago this month. But instead of celebrating a major goal reached, I went home broken, exhausted, and discouraged. I wasn't sure what I was going to do; had no romantic relationship. I felt unwanted, even worthless. But I got a good job in my field in a couple of months, and began attending a singles ward filled with wonderful women who were a lot like me, and slowly my confidence and happiness built again. Then I met my future husband. We were married just two years after I graduated.

Still, I had never felt validated at school. I never received much encouragement from the professors; I think there may have been a policy at the time not to fraternize with the kids or show any kind of favoritism. At least, I hope so. When my daughter took a screenwriting class there, the professor offered  to help her get accepted into the program. She didn't take him up on it, but the fact that someone found her talented enough to encourage her and support her nearly made me weep!

The gist of my dream (which usually are quite improbable) was that I was visiting the school with other people, and while I wasn't allowed to watch a newscast, the woman in charge (they were all men when I was in school) said I could do a part of the broadcast! Which I did. Then I received an evaluation sheet, which was covered with funny cartoon drawings illustrating me at the newsdesk and other people doing strange things--such are dreams.

Across the top it said, "Recommended."

I had been recommended for a slot on the news team. In my dream I cried. It was all I ever wanted--validation.

Dreams have a huge effect on my mood when I wake up. This one made my day! I was buoyed by my imaginary experience. I don't know why I dreamed this (it piggybacked on a weird dream wherein my husband and I were staying in a fancy New York hotel with a bunch of stars from the forties and fifties. There was a neighborhood of crumbling houses right across the street, and I wondered why the area hadn't been redeveloped). All I know is that the dream essentially reconciling 35 years of discouragement and feelings of inadequacy was very meaningful to me. I kept saying to other people, "That's all I ever wanted," through happy tears.

I have no idea how to interpret this. Perhaps it's a reflection on the relief I feel having already shipped out all the Christmas presents, including the homemade ones. Maybe it's because my daughter-in-law, for whom I made a Christmas stocking to match her husband's and son's, was very appreciative of my efforts. I have no idea. I am just going to let it make my day.

Amazing Grace

My daughter and granddaughter flew out from Utah to celebrate my birthday. What a blessing to have a dear, precious granddaughter. She is truly the light of my life. I loved being able to cuddle her little body and buy her cute clothes. I prayed with her, blessed her, fed her, changed her, bathed her, and talked to her. She is a smiley, happy baby. A precious, priceless gift.

Then as soon as they left, my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson arrived. Another precious little family, and in the spring they will be having a new baby! Two years in a row I have received news of an impending birth for my own birthday. I am so excited!

My little grandson is a beautiful child. He was the world's most adorable scarecrow for Halloween, and my husband and his parents took him Trick or Treating for the first time. I stayed home and sat on my porch, jack-o'-lanterns glowing, and passed out candy to the kids coming to our door. I was content and happy to sit there and just enjoy the moment. I love Halloween, and especially love having a grandchild to share it with.

We miss our children a lot. I wish with all my heart that they lived nearby so we could be a part of each other's lives more often. I want my grandchildren to know me well, share my everyday life, and be close. My parents sacrificed that; both my sister and I moved far away and they were busy with their own lives and work. I don't want that. I want to share my faith and my hobbies and my chores with my precious grandchildren. I want them to spontaneously call me and look to me for help, support, and love. I want them to know without a doubt that I love them more than life itself.

Now we are getting ready for the holiday season. I have had fun selecting gifts for my family, and it's time to wrap and send them out. We are safe and secure in our home. We have good friends and loved ones to care for us. We have little grandchildren to again share the wonder of Christmas, and a sweet dog to add some liveliness (and scratched floors) to our home. What amazing grace.

Coming to Understanding

My mother passed away nearly four years ago. The last three years of her life were very unpleasant. She was essentially bedridden, and in pain from scoliosis and stenosis of the nerves in her back. Years of prednisone use due to her ulcerative colitis wrought havoc on her body's tissues. She also had a defibrillator device to regulate her heartbeat.

I was there during her last week. Hospice came in and she was pretty much out of it, lying on a hospital bed in the living room. It was not a pleasant thing, but I am glad I stayed there with my dad and he was not alone with her. She died on a bright Friday morning. It was sad, but a relief too, to know she was no longer in pain. She donated her body to the University of Utah Medical Center, and unfortunately they came over in an SUV and zipped her into a body bag right in front of my sister and me (my dad had the sense to leave the room). We walked out to the car as a final farewell.

Mom had a difficult life; not in the material sense, but in a spiritual and emotional sense. I firmly believe she had borderline personality disorder and an anxiety disorder as well. She also might have had ADD. She was volatile, getting violently angry every day. She screamed and yelled and argued with my dad and us kids. I was frequently puzzled by her unreasonable reactions to things--nothing was a small deal with her. She was seldom happy and had difficult relationships with other people and co-workers.

While my mom pursued psychotherapy on more than one occasion, she seldom stuck with it long enough to get real results. Somehow she lacked the ability to apply herself to making permanent changes. Sometimes she realized how much her behavior hurt other people, but most of the time her ego and self-esteem were so fragile she was caught up in trying to protect them.

I just finished reading Borderline Personality Disorder Demystified by Dr. Robert O. Friedel, an expert in the field right here in Virginia at VCU. I found out that many of Mom's behaviors were the hallmarks of borderline personality disorder. It has been a great relief to me to know that she very likely could not help the way she behaved a lot of the time. This disorder is very hard to treat and often people are not properly diagnosed.

I am sorry she was that way, and I have had a legacy of difficulties resulting from having such a bad example of temper, immaturity, unreasonable expectations, and self-centeredness modeled for me. Still, in many ways she was a great mom, and I know she loved my sister and me. I know that Christ's Atonement will make it all well in the long run, and that we will be able to rebuild our relationship in the next life. I forgive her for the hurt she caused me and I hope she will forgive me for anything I might have done to hurt her.